


The wounds we see (And the scars we don't)

by Lurafita



Series: Author likes busting clichés [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Peter, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Iron-Dad, Irondad, May's Abusive Boyfriend Trope, May's new boyfriend, Peter gets a dog, Peter will not take this shit, Pitbulls are great, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Skip Westcott - Freeform, Spider-son, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, brief discussion of sexual abuse of a child, creative swearing, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-11-06 00:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurafita/pseuds/Lurafita
Summary: Some plots and story ideas are either good, or engaging enough to sprout multiple stories, from multiple authors. Some of which I greatly enjoy. Some of which I really don't.Aunt May's abusive boyfriend seems to be the latest trope to find itself written and rewritten to infinity.I would like to try my hand on this as well, while also presenting a different side to it, that I believe you haven't read in other fanfics so far.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow any kind of fanfiction feed, or if you have at least not spent the last few months away from fandom, you are probably very well acquainted with this trope.  
> The story usually goes pretty much like this: May gets a new boyfriend, and the guy starts verbally, physically and or sexually abusing Peter whenever she isn't there.  
> Peter becomes reclusive and distant, until the people around him notice something is up, things escalate at some point, and Tony flies to the rescue. The asshole boyfriend gets his due punishment, and Peter learns that he can count on the adults around him to protect him when he needs it.
> 
> The thing is, if you are at all familiar with Spiderman comic canon, then you will know that a younger Peter Parker (I haven't found an actual age, but we can safely call him pre-pubescent), has been a victim of sexual abuse by an older teen.  
> A friend.  
> A friend that lonely, socially awkward, so grateful that someone beside his aunt and uncle wanted to spend time with him, Peter Parker actually liked.  
> And when this older teenager, possibly young adult (because again, I was unable to find a definitive age for Skip), one day took advantage of Peter and (while not beyond a shadow of a doubt confirmed, it was heavily implied) sexually abused him, Peter told his aunt and uncle about it.
> 
> Yes, it took him a few days to build up the courage to open up to his family about it, but he did.  
> A younger, non-powered, inexperienced, not even yet a teenager, Peter Parker knew that what his friend was doing to him was wrong, and he didn't wait around for someone to find out about it by chance and save him.  
> By trusting in and opening up to his guardians, Peter saved himself (and possibly other kids who would have fallen victim to Skip). Skip was arrested and Peter likely got the help and support he needed to work through his experience.
> 
> Even if you don't include this canonical fact into your story, I think the way Peter reacted to it, and consequently handled the situation, should still be counted as one of the things that make up Peter's character.  
> Which is why it baffles me so much, in the fics that I have read so far, that an older, more experienced, wiser, spider-bite-enhanced Peter Parker, just allows his aunt's boyfriend abuse him so easily.  
> Now, I'm not saying it can't happen. But I feel like a situation in which Peter let's himself be treated like this, needs to be carefully handled and very well written. It needs to progress at a certain pace, to a certain level and it needs to showcase a certain progression into Peter's very psyche and its downward spiral, to be believable.  
> Well,at least that's how I see it.
> 
> I have admittedly not read too many of the fics that have this plot line, certainly not all of them. But of those which I have read, non have made me believe that Peter would just sit back and let himself be treated that way.  
> I'm also not a talented enough writer to create the kind of circumstances needed to bring this kind of story to life and make it believable. So I'm not even gonna attempt to.  
> Keeping all of that in mind, here is my take on how I think, Peter would react to May's boyfriend trying to lay a hand on him. 
> 
> Do not take it too seriously, and do not take offense if you have enjoyed the way other fics in this trope are written. Diverse reactions, likes and dislikes are after all what fiction and fandom is all about, and you are certainly entitled to your own opinion.
> 
> This very loosely ties in with another fanfic I have posted here, and I will link the two into a series as soon as possible. There is no real need to have read the first story, however. The only things of interest you can take from the previous story is that Tony hasn't sold the Tower and still resides in it in Manhattan, Tony and Pepper share custody over Peter with May, and Peter knows some NYPD detectives and the captain from a previous incident. Though they won't play a major role.

Yes, I am aware that Spiderman is usually written with a hyphen. No, I don't care that I keep writing it wrong. No, I won't correct it. 

With everything else, please go easy on me, English is not my first language. There will be mistakes. I'm especially horrible with these (,) stupid little things. Comma's are my doom. 

Last but not least, I know nobody likes having to read authors notes before starting with the fic, but this once it may actually proof relevant. So if you haven't yet, scroll up and give it a quick look through.

* * *

 

Tony Stark may have been the, more or less, proud owner of several PhD's, but he didn't actually need to be the genius he truly was, to know that something was bothering his kid.

  
The two of them tried to spend at least three weekdays after school, as well as however many weekends they could get away with, for some mentor/mentee, father/son bonding time. Time that, due to Tony's responsibilities to his company and being co-leader of the Avengers, as well as Peter's schoolwork, social life, and Spiderman activities, was hard to come by, and therefore treasured by both of them. Normally.

  
They were in Tony's private lab, tinkering away on nothing in particular, just seeing what they could create and come up with for the heck of it.  
But Peter was clearly distracted.

Usually by this time, Tony would have been filled in on every conversation the kid had had with his friends (though most of those conversations were had with Fred... Ted?..., as the girl wasn't really the talkative type) between today and the last time they had seen each other (two days ago, when Tony had showed up after school to take Peter and his two friends out for lunch).

He would have further been informed about how much Peter liked or disliked his current history topic. The last one had not been a favorite, but in Tony's humble opinion, nobody liked discussing William Pitt’s dominance of British politics.

Peter would have tried at least two times to convince Tony that they totally needed a dog around the Tower. In that very (read: not at all) subtle way of his. ("You know, I read this article on how getting a new best friend, like, say, _**a dog**_ , can have many stress relieving and health benefits. You look super stressed, you know? Maybe we should test that out?") Little did the kid know that Tony, Pepper and May were planning to take him to a local shelter on his next birthday, which was only three more months away, and let him pick out a dog. He was gonna freak.

  
And last but not least, the Spiderling would have complained about the shiny Starkwatch that, thanks to nanotechnology, had become a spider-strength resistant, non-breakable, very permanent fixture on his wrist. ("Like, seriously, that one time I actually tell you about almost being kidnapped, and now you need to constantly monitor my vitals all the time? Can you say Helicopter parent?"  
"Excuse me, did you just say 'that ONE time' you were almost kidnapped? Peter? Has someone tried to kidnap you before?! What the fuck!"  
"... I meant: What a cool new watch! And it can even tell me the time. Would you look at that, time for patrol! See you later, Dad!"  
"You swing your red and blue clad ass right back here, young man! We are so talking about this!")

As Tony watched the teen draw his eyebrows together and scrunch up his nose, as one does when thinking about a particularly unpleasant topic, he decided to test the waters.

  
"So, Pepper is making me attend a share-holders meeting next week. I was thinking about coating the mark 34 in hot pink and showing up in that. Thoughts?"

  
"Yeah, definitely."

  
Well, to be fair, that was a bit inconclusive. After all, Tony had shown up to business meetings in one of his suits more than once. To Peppers ever growing annoyance. So, he tried again.

  
"DUM-E was messing around with your old web-shooters and glued Happy to the ceiling for an hour. He might be out for revenge, so better watch your back, bud."

  
"Yeah, definitely."

  
Closer, but still not absolutely sure, time for the big guns.

  
"If you would rather have celery for dessert than chocolate cake, say 'yeah, definitely.'"

  
"Yeah, definitely."

  
"Okay, that's it." With an exasperated sigh, the billionaire let his tablet fall on top of the work table with a loud clang, which finally made the kid look at him.

  
"What? Tony? Something wrong?"

  
"You tell me, Underroos. What's got you obsessing over, when you could be spending your time building a killer robot with your old man?"

  
Peter lifted an eyebrow.  
"A killer robot? Really? Have you been dreaming about world domination again? I thought you had given up on that, because it would be too much of a hassle to keep all those squabbling countries from rebelling. Though I still maintain that they wouldn't rebel too much, if you didn't insist on banning every technology that doesn't have your name on it. Or that law about how it is forbidden to put pineapple on pizza." The kid shot him a dirty look at that one.

  
"Pfft. I will not be the ruler of a world that allows it's people to run around with something as inferior as an _iPod_ , when there is a much better alternative. And pineapple is an insult to pizza. You may deny it now, but deep down, you know of the crime you keep committing every time you order that abomination. Your Italian ancestors would be _ashamed_."

  
Peter grinned. "You know, depending on how you define pizza, it actually originated more in the eastern regions, or ancient Greek. Also, I'm not Italian."

  
A fake gasp. "Hear that? Every Stark that ever lived has just turned over in their grave. Your great, great, great, great grandmother, Victoria Helena Stark, the _godmother_ of the ITALIEN dish known today as pizza, just died _again_ of heartbreak because she had to hear you deny your heritage and ancestry. And all because of a stupid yellow fruit, that has no right to ever be anywhere near a real, proud, **Italian** pizza. See the evil that is pineapple now?"

And finally, a laugh. Let it not be said that Tony Stark was not ready and willing to make a fool out of himself, just to see his kid happy.

"Am I actually going to find a Victoria Helena Stark, who was apparently a pizza baker, if I search through your familial history? Or did you make that up?" The kid was still snickering.

"Number 1: _Our_ familial history. The papers have been signed and sealed, nothing you can do now, you are a Stark, Pete."

"I'm actually still a Parker." Peter piped up, grinning.

Tony decided to ignore him. " _And as a Stark_ , you are now also part Italian. This means no more committing of any atrocity to an original, Italian, dish. Get used to it. Number 2: Stop trying to avoid my question. What's going on?"

Peter gawked slightly. "I'm sorry, _I'm_ trying to avoid the question? You were the one who started an impromptu, and completely made up, history lesson about a flat bread with some toppings that's cooked in an oven, and was invented by the Greeks."

Nice try, kid.

"Number 3: That's focaccia bread. Number 4: Stop trying to avoid my question."

"I thought that was number 2."

"Pete."

His newly acquired 'Dad-voice' was highly effective. Peter sighed and his grin slipped slightly. Tony hated it.

"Come on kid. What's going on? You have any trouble at school? That Flash kid bothering you again? Talk to me."

"No, no, nothing with school. And Flash has been ok. For the record, you really didn't need to talk to his parents and the principal about it. It was fine."

Tony scoffed. "It was not 'fine'. The little jerk was bullying you."

"And it was f.i.n.e. Look, okay, he used to bother me, I will admit that much. But that was _before_ the spiderbite and becoming a superhero. I have done and been through so much since then, the stupid things Flash liked to call me to make himself feel better, barely even registered. I didn't care."

"Well, I care. But we are not having this argument again. Tell me what's wrong."

The kid was rubbing at his wrist, over the spot where that spider had bitten him all those years ago. A nervous habit, as Tony had learned. He rolled his chair closer and laid a supportive hand on the deceptively slender shoulder.

"It's nothing, honestly. I'm blowing things out of proportion. This is just me, worrying about something completely ridiculous."

A gentle squeeze. "Tell me anyway."

Peter took a deep breath. "Remember when you took Ned, MJ and me for lunch after school?" Ned, that was the name! He really needed to write this shit down. "When you dropped me off later, Aunt May was home early. ... And she wasn't alone."

Now Tony was worried. "Who was with her? Some reporter? New villain? Did they threaten her? Is someone trying to blackmail you?" He was going to fucking kill them! But Peter violently shook his head.

"No, no! Nothing like that. Stop jumping to conclusions. According to MJ, I'm doing enough of that on my own already."

The pout on his kid's face immediately calmed his murderous intentions.

"Okay, so May has someone over. Why is that getting your onesie in a twist?"

The pout morphed into a frown.

"It was a guy."

Oh.

"They were kissing."

Ooooh!

"The guy's name is Jeremy. Like, what kind of a stupid name is Jeremy?" Now Peter was crossing his arms over his torso. "They met each other at the hospital. Apparently, Jeremy is as stupid as his stupid name, because he stupidly slipped on nothing and fell down some stairs and sprained his stupid ankle. Like, who even goes to the hospital because of a stupid, sprained, ankle? And Aunt May was the poor nurse that had to care for stupid Jeremy, since apparently stupid Jeremy was somehow smart enough to get really good insurance, which made the hospital treat him like some donuts VIP."

Oh, this was too precious. Tony had to bite his lip to keep from smirking.

"Being forced to spend so much time with stupid Jeremy, must have caused some kind of Stockholm syndrome for Aunt May, or something. Because that is the only thing I can think of why she would agree to going out on a date with him." The kid looked like he wanted to stick out his tongue in disgust. "And now its been four weeks of them dating and Aunt May wanted to introduce stupid Jeremy to me."

The pout grew. "Have I mentioned yet that he is stupid?"

That poor, adorable kid. Tony couldn't help the little laugh that escaped.

"So, May has a new boyfriend, and you have been occupied with planning his murder for the last two days. That about right?"

"I'm not planning his murder. Just, _maybe_ the _accidental_ webbing of him to some bridge in Hell's Kitchen. Then he can be Double D's stupid problem."

"For the record, I'm still not sure how I feel about you hanging out with surly vigilantes that think horns are the latest fashion."

"Aw, lay off DD. He's cool."

'Cool' wasn't exactly the word Tony Stark would use to describe Daredevil, but trust his reckless, would-pet-and-cuddle-the-hounds-of-hell-if-he-could, superhero of a son, to actually worm his way under the prickly skin of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Thank god nobody had introduced Peter to The Punisher yet. Small mercies.

"Back on track. Is this 'Jeremy' just stupid because he is dating your precious aunt, or is there actually something about him that is making you suspicious? Your spidey-senses tingling?"

That was always a possibility, and Tony had learned to never underestimate, nor dismiss, Peter's sixth sense. Said boy let out an annoyed huff.

"Nooooo. Unfortunately, he is just 'regular' stupid, not 'possibly dangerous' stupid." The poor teen really seemed quite put off about this. And the **pout of doom** had returned, too.

This was actually better than Tony could have hoped. Not only was there nothing really wrong with his son, but Peter was _actually acting_ like a kid for once. With all his genuine kindness and reckless bravery and incredible intellect, it was sometimes hard to remember that Peter was only 16 years old. Sure, he may be cracking stupid puns and jokes left and right, and he could talk your ear off at the drop of a hat, but the kid was also upholding a rigorous schedule. Excelling at one of the best highschools in the city, saving lives almost every day as Spiderman, being an incredibly talented intern with _two_ patents in the works for his inventions, and helping his aunt around the house with different chores. This was the kind of dedication and maturity that most adults could only dream about. And Tony was immeasurably proud of him.  
But he also wanted Peter to have an actual childhood. Or, since Peter would probably balk at being referred to as a child, teenage-hood. And this display of childish possessiveness over a parental figure, was a nice change from all the responsibility the teenager always loaded onto his narrow shoulders.

"What's your nerd-squads take on this Laramee character?" Because ever since his two friends had found out about him being Spiderman, (Ned because Peter was an idiot who didn't check his surroundings before stripping off his suit, and Michelle because the girl was very observant and the boys were the opposite of subtle), the three of them talked about everything. Which was a good thing. Tony was glad that the kid had such good friends.  
Peter perked up a little, which Tony hoped was due, in part, to him already messing up the man's name.

"Well, they haven't officially met him yet, but from everything I have told them about him-"

"Would that be the same way you described him to me?" Cue raised eyebrow.

"- and the information Ned was able to get from his social security number-"

"Where the hell did you get his social security number from? Did you hack the guys phone while May introduced you? Did Ned get into his hospital records? Do we have to have a conversation about cyber-crime?"

"-we have come up with two **very** valid theories about him. And in mine and Ned's defense, hospital records are laughably easy to access, and who the hot dogs uses 1234 as their phone pin? That is like the opposite of a secure password. It's worse than 'password'. I told you he was stupid."

Well, the kid had a point. Tony made a mental note to have Friday run an analysis on the hospital's network, to make sure the boys hadn't done anything that could be traced back to them, (though that was unlikely, Ted was a pretty good hacker and Peter was no slouch either), and motioned for Peter to continue.

"So, valid theory number one: Jeremy is one of those con artist licorice, who scam people into getting engaged to them and then take off with all their jewelry and money."

It had taken a while, but Tony was finally getting used to the way Peter cursed. The little smartass had concluded that he was able to swear as much as his devious little heart desired, without reprimand, as long as he didn't use traditional swear-words. He basically took the first letter of your run-of-the-mill four letter word, and replaced it with a food with the same first letter. So 'damn' became 'donuts', 'hell' became 'hot dogs', 'fuck' alternated between 'french fries' and 'fruit loops', 'shit' was 'skittles' and any kind of name calling in the lines of 'asshole' or 'bitch' was replaced with a gender-neutral 'licorice'. Peter, who had the biggest sweet tooth in existence, did decidedly **not** like licorice.

"And have you found anything in his very illegally attained records, that led you to this conclusion?"

The boy deflated. "Well, no." But then brightened right back up. "Which brings us to our very valid theory number two: 'Jeremy' is some kind of robot-alien-clone thingy, that was sent here as a scout, in order to see if earth presents a variable breeding ground for his parasitic species."

What... even...

"... And how did you and Ned come up with this one?"

Peter gave him a deadpan look. "Jeremy's phone runs on Windows Vista."

Maybe the kids had a point.

But it was time to get things back on track. "So, what was Michelle's take on this?"

Because there was a system when it came to problem solving between the three friends. First, a problem would be discussed in all it's so far existing details. Then, depending on whether or not further data was required, Peter and Fred would take on the task of gathering input, i.e. hacking into things they shouldn't (primarily Ted) or some mild stalking (usually Spiderman). Then the boys would wind each other up, reaching ever more ridiculous conclusions, until the most outlandish one beat the reasonable ones into complete surrender. And as soon as they had gotten to this stage, Michelle would descend on the two like the avenging angel of sound mind and logic that she was, and bring them back down to a common level of reason and rationality.

And, once again, Peter deflated. This time complete with drooping shoulders and forehead landing neatly on the worktable.

"She said we were 'disgracing our standings as members of the decathlon team, by using our intellect to concoct such tomfoolery'."

"She seriously said 'tomfoolery'?"

"I skittles you not." There was a short pause, then Peter went on. "And then she said that I was being a baby who was just realizing that their parent actually had a life of their own, and may indulge in romantic and/or sexual relationships from time to time. She said some more, but I was trying very hard to block out every thought that had to do with 'sex' and my aunt, so I wasn't really listening from that point on. But Ned looked pretty gobsmacked by the end."

Oh that poor, poor kid.

While Tony was still trying to think about the kind of worldly advice that would actually help the kid deal with this situation, (and how come non of the 63 books on parenting he had read through had ever mentioned stuff like this? He should sue someone!), Peter mumbled his next words into the table.

"I know I'm being ridiculous. And selfish. And maybe a little overprotective. And childish. I don't mean to be. And Jeremy is probably not even that stupid. He seemed nice enough. And he made Aunt May laugh a lot. And I want her to be happy. It's already been a little more than two years since Uncle Ben... You know, the first few weeks, after... she thought I was asleep, but you know, enhanced senses, and I could hear her crying every night in her bed. But come the next morning, she had already made pancakes and smiled at me and worried if I slept alright. And I was so caught up in my own grief and new powers and doing the whole Spiderman thing, when I finally realized that I'm not the only one hurting, I didn't know what to do. How to help her. And in the end all I did was sit with her in the living room, whenever she didn't have a late shift at the hospital, and watch old movies together. And I would just, hold her. And I think it helped? But when thinking about all the things she had done for me, I felt so... insufficient. Like it wasn't enough and I should be able to do more. Just... _something_. I don't ever want her to feel like she did back then. I don't **ever** want her to be lonely. She is the greatest person who ever lived and she deserves to be happy. If she is ready to move on, start dating again and all that, and if she finds someone who can appreciate that she is the best thing that will ever happen to them, then that's exactly what I want for her. But somehow, I'm... I'm not ready to let her go."

Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist, Ex-Playboy, Superhero, Dad Tony Stark did not need the advice of any fucking parenting book to know what to do right then and there. He gently lifted the kid off from his face-plant position on the table and turned him around to hug him tightly.

"If there is one thing that you could never be, Underroos, it's 'insufficient'. It may not feel like much, but those nights you spent on that couch, they helped your aunt a lot."

The teen sniffled, face buried in the inventors chest. "You think so?"

"I **know** so. Because May told me about it. How proud she was of you, and how grateful that you would sacrifice so much of your time, just to spend it with some 'old biddy' like her. Her words, not mine."

Peter shook his head into the shirt it was nestled in. "Aunt May is never gonna be an 'old biddy'. And I didn't sacrifice anything. I wanted to be there for her."

The older man nodded, hugging the teen a little tighter. "And you were. You were, kid. You were the only reason she got out of bed every day. And I know that you and your aunt still have your regular movie nights, because she cherishes them so much, they are pretty much all I ever hear about. She calls you her little cuddle bug, did you know?"

He grinned as he caught the tell-tale red of a blush spreading along the kid's neck and ears. "Pepper is actually a little bit jealous."

"We could have movie nights, too. The four of us. I bet you know a lot of really old movies. You know, from when you were young? Like waaaaay back when." He could _hear_ the smug little grin the spiderling was pressing into his shirt. Tony retaliated by pinching his right side, causing Peter to flinch and muffle a laugh. Kid was way too ticklish.

"And just because your aunt has started going out again, doesn't mean you have to let her go, or step back or anything like that. She would hate that. It's okay if you are a little selfish. You are allowed to act a bit childish when it comes to your family. And you can call good ol' Jerry 'stupid' for as long as you need to, kiddo. I mean, really, Windows Vista? Guy is asking for it." A snicker. Tony gave himself a pat on the back for that. "And you know, no matter what, you will always come first in May's book. Just as with Pepper and me. You aren't gonna lose any of us."

A hitched breath that was followed by an almost too tight squeeze from the kid, was all the assurance Tony needed to know that Peter understood. He still planted a quick kiss on the tousled curls right under his chin, before gently untangling the two from their hug. Peter only let go with some reluctance. The older man snorted. Cuddle bug indeed. Then he laid his hands on the teen's shoulders and held him at arms length, looking him straight in the eyes.

"But Pete, I need you to understand, that if this Laramee guy turns out to be a douchebag, _robot-alien-clone or otherwise_ , you **_can't_ **web him to some bridge or something in Hell's kitchen."

Peter sighed dejectedly. "I know."

"Because if that asshat hurts May, we are going to shove him in one of the old suits and shoot him to the moon."

Because hell would freeze over thrice, before Tony would let some horned freak avenge his family.

 

* * *

 

 

So, as you have probably guessed, the actual 'abusive boyfriend' part of the story will follow in the next (and last) chapter. I wanted to make this a one shot, but the Irondad & Spiderson part of this got a little away from me, and I want to keep it separate from the heavier things that are to come next chapter. But do not fret, as I said before, this will not follow the typical route of this trope, so things aren't going to go really dark.

I hope you liked this so far. Let me know what you think and expect.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

  
  


 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor, or anything close to it. The injury used and described in this chapter, is something I remembered from another fanfic and then googled a bit. It will most likely not be completely accurate, even though I'm not gonna go into detail.  
> This was supposed to be up sooner, but then I got my hands on Tales of Berseria... Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice in this chapter, that there is a section where the seperate grounding of Spiderman and Peter Parker is mentioned. This refers to something I have ranted about on tumblr before. The full rant can be found here: https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/182635246194/rant-time
> 
> The part directly related to this is this one: 
> 
> Another thing I have come across quite a lot in fics, and that I absolutely hate, is when Peter is punished for something by taking away Spiderman.
> 
> Spiderman isn’t a hobby, and shouldn’t be treated like one.
> 
> Look, if Peter gets hurt, is injured, sick, exhausted, etc. Definitely bench him. Definitely make sure he gets the rest he needs and is at 100%, before letting him get out and fight again.  
> But disallowing him to actively help people in need, making him sit back and stay away, because maybe he broke curfew, or his latest test came back with a not so great grade, that (to me) seems to trivialize everything that Peter does as Spiderman. Its not like he goes out there to just swing around high buildings and have fun. He saves people’s lives.  
> He jumps into burning buildings to pull out kids stuck on a high floor. He webs up armed muggers who might otherwise have badly hurt their victims. He has saved people from being raped late at night, just as he has helped lost children find their parents. To Peter, and to the people he has helped, the work he does is important. Witholding Spiderman as a punishment seems nothing less than cruel to me.  
> Can’t you just imagine Peter sitting in a corner of his room, hyperventilating and fighting off an anxiety attack, as his mind is making him imagine all the people currently in danger because he is not allowed out as Spiderman?
> 
> Like I said, if Peter is in need of a break due to injury, or sickness, or exhaustion, absolutely make him take a night (or more) off.  
> If it becomes apparent that his social life or his grades are suffering due to Spiderman, make him shorten his patrols, make Tony or any of the other Avengers offer to cover some parts of the city for him.  
> But just don’t treat his activities and responsibilities as Spiderman like it doesn’t matter. Like some hobby that can be taken away as punishment for bad behaviour.

* * *

* * *

 

While absolutely no mode of transportation could ever beat swinging through the city on his own webs, there was something to be said about being driven around in a sports car that was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. (Though honestly, Peter tried to block out just how much it might cost to clean the imported leather, if he were to spill his soda on the upholstery.) He could even pretend that the special painkillers he had been forced (yes, **forced**. Mr Stark was _such a worrywart_ ) to take a few hours ago, were still working perfectly. No painful ribs here. No siree, Bob!

“You okay back there, kid? Should we turn around and have the doc take another look at you?”

Of course that one time Happy didn't raise the partition between them, would also be that time the man caught the slightest, tiniest little wince from the teen, as he adjusted himself in the seat.

“No, no, Happy. I'm fine. Just moved wrong, no biggie. We are almost home anyway. Also, it's just a bruise. There was no need to bother Doctor Cho in the first place.” He was still so _very_ embarrassed about this.

The driver scoffed. “A subperiosteal haematoma in three ribs is not 'just a bruise'. And if it weren't for your handy little healing factor and those heavy duty painkillers they made specifically for you, you would be singing quite a different tune right now.”

Peter lifted a curious eyebrow. “You speaking from experience?”

Happy nodded, while taking the required turn into Queens. “Used to get them quite a lot in my time as a professional boxer. They are more commonly referred to as 'bone bruises'.”

“AHA! So it _is_ just a bruise!”

“Not 'just' a bruise! Depending on severity and location, a bone bruise can take longer to heal, and be even more painful than a simple break. Last one I had took me out of commission for damn near 7 weeks. This is what happens right before you fracture your bones. You heard the doc. A little more force, and your rips would have cracked under the pressure.”

The teen-aged superhero groaned. “I know, I know. But Dr Cho said that due to my faster metabolism, my body will heal it in the time a normal human would take for a normal bruise.” He held his hand up before Happy could interject. “A very severe bruise, but nothing worse than you would get from having been in a fight, or something. It will be like that one time I dropped in on that Gang fight and had to take a few tire irons to the back. Just that this time it will take a little longer to heal than a good nights sleep. I **am** okay though, I promise. Just the painkillers starting to wear off. But it's fine! Dad stuffed a bunch of them into my backpack and the doc said I should take another when I get home and go to sleep. So, everything is good.”

Another huff from the front, as Happy took a turn into one of the nicer residential areas in Queens.  
It had taken the combined forces of Tony and Pepper, to convince May to let them buy back the house they used to live in when Ben was still alive.

  
When his aunt and uncle first moved to Queens, they had been confident about being able to take on a big loan from the bank to buy the cozy little house. While their combined salaries could never have amounted to a wealthy lifestyle, it had been enough to pay off their debt gradually, while still living comfortably. The budget had gotten a little tighter when they took in Peter after his parents demise, but things had still been manageable. But when Ben had died, May wasn't able to keep up the contractual monetary obligations with her nurses salary alone. Back then Peter hadn't been in any position to help, not that she would have let him pay for anything. And so they had to sell their home and move into the dingy little apartment, where Tony Stark had come looking for Spiderman, on that fateful day, about two years ago.

While Peter was happy to be back in his childhood home, he had at first worried that it would be too difficult to return. Would the ghost of Uncle Ben linger in every nook and cranny? Would he and May walk into the kitchen one day, and break down in tears because they remembered Ben grumbling about how the coffeemaker was on the fritz again. Would Peter go into the garage, and see the image of Ben lying under his old, broken down car, swearing up and down that this time, he would get it running again. Would May be able to sleep in the master bedroom, or cry every night, just like she did right after the shooting?

But things had been okay. Better than okay, actually. Yes, the memories of their time together in the house, all three of them, were ever present when Peter and May had moved back in, but they never broke the two remaining Parkers. Instead, Peter and his aunt would sit at the breakfast table on a rare, free Sunday morning, and laughingly recall how Ben always denied needing glasses, while holding the newspaper a bare inch away from his face.  
  
They would watch all of Ben's favorite movies, and May would tell him about the time she made his uncle jealous by claiming that the lead actor was the most attractive man she had ever seen. (“It was the funniest thing. For about a week after we had seen the movie, all I had to do was mention the actor, and your uncle would pout at me like I was kicking a puppy. I swear, you get it from him”)

It was good. It was like living in that house again, sharing their memories of Ben with each other, had closed a wound that they had both not known was still bleeding slightly.

"How did you even manage to crash into that billboard? I thought your buggy-sense, or whatever, was supposed to warn you of things like that."

"Spidey-sense." Peter pouted. "Spiders are not bugs. They are arachnids." How come no one ever got that right?

Happy shrugged. "Arachnid, bug, same thing. If it has more than four legs, it's a creepy-crawly. And don't dodge the question. How the hell did you not see that you were headed full speed into a 20 foot tall tooth paste commercial?"

And this was the embarrassing part. "I was distracted."

"Distracted?"

He sunk down into the car seat. "Yeah." _So_ embarrassing.

"And what, pray tell, was so very deserving of your attention that you forgot to look where you were swinging?"

 _So_ **embarrassing**. "I was trying to catch a Pikachu."

"...Gesundheit?"

Oh god. "It's a Pokemon."

"A what? Is this one of your weird meme things?" Happy was confused. Which was nothing new. Most of the things that came out of the kids mouth confused him. He was getting too old for this shit. A quick look in the rear-view mirror showed the teenager in question trying his best to become one with the backseat.

"It's an app game. You know? For your phone? I sometimes play it when Karen doesn't detect any crime nearby. And I was swinging along and then I got the alert that a Pokemon was nearby, and it was a Pikachu! And I'm so close to evolving it to Raichu, I just need two more candies! And there is a pretty good chance that it will evolve into the Alolan form, which is so much cooler than the regular Kanto. So naturally, I was very invested in catching it. And okay, in hindsight maybe a little too invested... And then I crashed into the billboard."  
And try explaining _that_ to an overly worried mentor/father, who was alerted to your injury by not only the A.I. in your suit, but also the watch he all but glued onto your wrist, and had frantically jumped into his latest Ironman suit to fly to your rescue.

  
And then came the absolute indignity of being picked up bridal style by said mentor/father, and flown back to the tower, where the esteemed Doctor Cho was already waiting for her patient. Tony spent the whole flight, which turned out to be the longest six and a half minutes of Peters life, alternating between berating the teen ("Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?! Who the fuck throws a digitized ball at a similarly digitized, yellow rat thing, while going 65 miles per hour, 160 feet above solid ground?") and fussing over him ("How bad is it? Do you think you broke something? Just breathe, kid. Slow and steady. We are almost there.")

This was of course followed by excessive hovering during Dr Cho's examination, including, but not limited to:

  * extreme cursing ("Do you have any fucking idea how many god damn gray hairs you are fucking responsible for? I'm fucking naming each and every one of those shitty, age-betraying, damning-me-into-an-early-grave gray hairs after you!"),

  * over the top threatening ("I'm calling your aunt right now to tell her that her nephew is a little idiot. You hear me? And then I'm going to install a program into your phone that will shut down your stupid game whenever you are in the suit!"),

  * actually going through with the over the top threats ("May says Spiderman is grounded until your ribs are fully healed, and Peter Parker has an extra week after that. And I'm uploading the program into your phone as well as Karen right now!"),

  * to overly dramatic fits of worry ("Is he breathing alright, Helen? It looks like he isn't breathing alright. Could he have punctured a lung? Pete, I need you to be honest with me here, does it feel like there is something wrong, besides the obvious? Should we do another scan? I feel like we should do another scan. And another x-ray. And maybe an ultrasound. He looks pale. Could this be due to internal bleeding? Should we get a med team in here? Prepare for emergency surgery? Petey, just stay calm, everything is going to be alright. Friday! Call in all medical personnel currently in the building!")

  * which ultimately ended with Dr Cho throwing Tony out of the room, with strict orders to Friday to not open the door for her creator until she was done with her examination. It was only thanks to Peter's enhanced hearing that he could still make out his dad pacing in front of the closed door, muttering about being denied access to his _own_ son in his _own_ building and traitorous A.I.'s.




And the worst part of it all? He never got around to catching that Pikachu!

Happy just shook his head. "You realize you are damn lucky that Pepper was there to drag Tony away to that meeting. Otherwise he would be sitting in this very car right now, still lecturing and fussing over you."

Oh, Peter was all too aware of that, thank you very much. "He was in the middle of convincing May to let me stay at the tower for 'further observation'. Just in case my spleen suddenly decided to rupture, or something equally ridiculous."

Pepper actually almost canceled the meeting when she saw Peter lying on the medical cot. He didn't think the supportive bandages around his rib cage looked _that_ bad. Thankfully Doctor "Call me Helen, Sweetie" Cho had assured her that Peter wasn't in any danger from his injuries, despite Tony's best efforts to make it out to be the most grievous thing ever. Pepper had given Peter a loving hug and a sweet kiss on the forehead, told Friday to contact Happy to drive Peter home so that he could recover in peace, grabbed her fiance by the back of his shirt and hauled him out of the room.

Tony had still somehow managed to nab Peter's backpack (a drone had picked it up from where Peter had webbed it to the roof of a building), and stuff a bottle of Spidey-metabolism-approved painkillers in it, "And you better take one as soon as you need to, kid. I've already programmed your watch to remind you if it detects anything related to pain."

Happy cleared his throat. "Speaking of your aunt, how is she doing? Still dating this investment banker guy?"

There was a very peculiar tone to his voice as he asked the question, but Peter never noticed. "Yeah. Stupid Jeremy is still a thing."

Maybe he needed to let go of that nickname. It had been two months since his talk with Tony about the whole 'My Aunt is dating again' situation. Aunt May and Jeremy had been on quite a few more outings during those eight weeks, and Jeremy had even been a guest at their house for some dinners with just the three of them.  
Any evidence that stupid Jeremy was a licorice con artist, or alien parasite still refused to show itself, and if pressed, the only truly negative thing the teen could say about him, was that he was dead boring. But then again, it would be hard for anyone to compete with the kind of stories and things Tony shared with Peter. The guy was... okay, as much as it pained the young Superhero to admit. And Aunt May seemed to really like him, so it was probably time that Peter cut him some slack.

The burly driver/bodyguard huffed. "Good. That's ... good. For her, I mean. It's good that things are working out between them."

Peter nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah."  
  
Maybe he should try talking more to stup-, to Jeremy. The man had tried to engage him a few times during their shared dinners, but Peter had always deflected. And maybe that was a little unfair. It was possible that the guy wasn't _that_ boring. Who knows, they might even find some common ground. After all, Jeremy could not have seduced a woman like May Parker with talk about property values and stock market exchanges. There simply had to be something interesting about the guy.  
  
Yeah. It was decided. Next time st-(he really needed to put a lid on that one) JEREMY came around, Peter would have an actual, non-boring, conversation with the guy. Like a real french frying adult. He could be mature like that. For his Aunt. Peter would make the effort and give Jeremy (ha, no 'stupid' this time around. Progress!) a real chance and actually get to know the man. Maybe they could talk about Star Wars. The guy was dating his Aunt, so _clearly_ , he had good taste.

The car came to a halt soon after Peter had come to this new resolution and a quick look out of the side window confirmed them to be parked in the Parker residences drive way.

"This is your stop, kid. How is the pain? You need anything before I'm off again?" Happy's tone was decidedly worried. Peter had pretty much worried everyone today with his little mishap, and as much as he hated being such a bother _("Underroos, stop thinking shit like that! You are not a bother, you hear me? Do I look like a guy who likes surrounding himself with bothersome people? No. Definitely not. So if I'm telling you that you are not a bother, you are not a bother. Understood? Good.")_ , he couldn't deny that it was nice to have so many people care about him.

"No, thanks, Happy. I'm just gonna go lie down and sleep for a bit. Thank god it's summer break, so at least I'm not gonna miss any school work while recovering from my bruises."

  
"Not just a bruise!"

  
The teen held up his hands in a placating way, and winced in slight pain as soon as he did. "My very serious bone bruises. God, the next week is gonna be so boring."

That was if his recovery followed the best case scenario Docto- Helen, had painted, and his healing factor took care of the black and blue skin and his aching bones in the next seven days. While he was still grounded for a week after that, he could at least go out as Spiderman, which never failed to calm his restlessness.

He opened the door and gingerly stepped out of the car, mindful of his increasingly painful rib cage. On cue, his watch sounded a little beep, having picked up on his vitals and their indicators to pain. Happy leaned out of the driver sides window. "Don't forget to take those pills, if you don't want the boss flying over in his suit to shove them down your throat himself."

And then probably whisk him off to the tower and confine him to the med bay. No thanks.

"Will do, Happy. Just need something to wash it down with. Thanks for driving me home."

A nod, a wave, and then Happy backed out of the drive way and onto the street.

And Peter really, honestly, actually planned on doing exactly what he had told Happy he would do. Get something to drink, take one or two of his painkillers, and then lie down for a little nap until either Aunt May was home, or he got hungry. He had eaten a large meal at the tower, before Helen released him to be driven home, but with his enhanced metabolism, his stomach might as well be a black hole.

What the young spider-themed hero was definitely not prepared for, was opening the door to his home and be greeted by the smell of cigarettes. Aunt May didn't smoke.

Cautiously, he closed the door behind him and scanned the small entrance hall for any sign of intrusion. Had they been broken into? His spidey-sense was a low buzz. No immediate danger, but something was amiss. Aunt May shouldn't be home yet, her shift at the hospital was still another four to five hours, and a quick glance to the wardrobe revealed that her work shoes were still gone. Good. At least she wouldn't be in any danger if someone actually had broken in.

He focused on his hearing next, hoping to catch on to anything that would give him a clue as to what was going on. Was someone in the house? Should he be suiting up? Spiderman might be grounded until his ribs were fully healed, but Peter was never without the suit. An emergency could happen anywhere, anytime, and his Dad did not want to risk Peter being without any kind of protection. They had both learned that lesson the hard way.

Then he heard some muttered grumblings coming from the living room, and his tension eased somewhat. Peter might not have talked a lot with Jeremy, but he still recognized his voice. What was the man doing here, though? Still a little wary, Peter decided to investigate and went right into their cozy, little living room.

"Uhm, hey there? Jeremy?" The cigarette smell was stronger in here, which was not really surprising, seeing as the tall man on the couch was currently smoking one. Jeremy looked up at his voice.

"Ah, Peter. The man of the hour." His voice had a slight slur to it, and Peters eyes were quick to locate the half empty bottle of liquor, right next to the still booted feet Jeremy had propped up on the low table. Those were gonna leave scratches. Peter frowned.

"What are you doing here? And you really shouldn't smoke inside the house. Aunt May doesn't like the smell of nicotine." Neither did he, for that matter. How come he had never detected any on Jeremy before? Maybe the man had only picked up the habit recently?

But the adult seemingly ignored what was just said, and instead drew another inhale from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "You cause your aunt a lot of stress, you know? She called me on my day off, asked me if I could please come over, because her precious, precious nephew got himself hurt and she wanted someone to be home with you, just in case. I had to drive all the way to her hospital, you know? To get her house key. And then I had to drive all the way here, just to wait for you. On my day off."

Peter cringed. "I'm... sorry. I didn't know Aunt May was gonna call you. It wasn't necessary. Not that I don't appreciate it, of course, but you really don't have to waste your day off on me. You don't need to stay, I will clear things up with Aunt May."

Actually, he just wanted the man to leave. Even though he did feel guilty that Jeremy had apparently gone to the trouble of being here at May's request, and even though Peter had just a few minutes ago decided to give the guy a real chance, he felt uncomfortable with him in the room right now. His watch gave another beep, and the teen remembered that he was supposed to take another painkiller. He really just wanted to take the pill and pass out for a few hours on his bed.

Jeremy chuckled. "Ah ah ah. It's not that easy, my boy." He didn't like the way the man called him 'my boy'. "See, I promised May that I would take care of her troublesome little nephew. Relationships are built on trust, you understand that, right? So I really can't disappoint her. After all, you already do it so often." At this the man leveled him with a withering look, and Peter bodily flinched from it. His abused ribs sent him a sharp reprimand for that action.

"Did she.... did she say something?" Could he really have done something that would have disappointed his aunt? Sure, she had been worried, and a little angry about his injury, but she hadn't been 'disappointed' in him, had she? She had already been joking with him about it, on the phone, after everything was cleared away and she was assured that Peter would be alright. She had said that an Absol must have been close by. (Because his aunt was the kind of cool person who knew her way around Pokemon lore. Take that, every other uncool adult!)

"Peter, Peter, Peter." Jeremy shook his head, slowly standing up from the couch, lit cigarette still in his hand. "When _doesn't_ she say something like this?" The mocking tone that accompanied the words was just about as hurtful as his angrily throbbing ribs. He really needed to take that pill.

The man advanced. “I mean, it's understandable, really. After all, May is still only in her thirties, widowed, with a very demanding job, and is a single parent to a teenager who has no actual blood relation to her. Anyone would get overwhelmed by this from time to time.” He stumbled slightly, and Peter recalled the half empty bottle of alcohol on the table. The man was drunk.  
  
“But I understand your side of this story, too, my boy. After all, you are only, what? 14?” Peter's aching ribs kept him from correcting Jeremy. “I remember what it's like to be a teenager. You gotta act out a little, do some stupid shit sometimes, get into a fight or two.”  
  
Peter didn't like violence, had never gotten into a fight before the spider-bite, and even as Spiderman never _started_ any of the altercations with the criminals. Part of the reason behind his web-shooters was that they enabled him to incapacitate people _without_ being forced to hurt them any more than absolutely necessary.

Jeremy came closer still, voice sounding friendly and cajoling even, and Peter took a step back, very uncomfortable with the man's closeness.

“So you see, Peter, I know that you don't _mean_ to cause your lovely aunt any trouble. It's just a bunch of hormones and peer pressure and the need to be a little rebellious from time to time. And I get that it's hard for you, too. Having to deal with all the drama that comes with being a teenager, without the benefit of having a _real_ man around to look up to. A true father figure to turn to for guidance.”

The simperingly sympathetic tone only made Peter bristle more at the words. He didn't remember much about Richard Parker, but he knew that his father had been a good man. And then he had had eight years of Ben Parker filling the role of both uncle and father to him. Eight **incredible** years of all the love and affection and support that both May and Ben had freely given him.

“I know you have that weird internship thing with Stark.” The name was almost snorted derisively. “But you gotta understand that someone like him can't waste his time on a run-of-the-mill kid like you. The man already has so much on his plate, you can't expect him to take on the burden of looking after you as well.”  
  
Mr Stark and him hadn't had the best start, that was true. But that was more than two years ago now. _("Underroos, stop thinking shit like that! You are not a bother, you hear me? Do I look like a guy who likes surrounding himself with bothersome people? No. Definitely not. So if I'm telling you that you are not a bother, then you are not a bother. Understood? Good.")_

Things had changed.

 _They_ had changed.

Peter took another step back, but fixed his eyes on the still approaching adult before him, voice steady. “I think you should go.” His watch sounded another beep and the area around his bone bruises was starting to pulsate with pain.

But Jeremy didn't appear to have heard him. “And let's be honest here, boy. Stark isn't exactly role-model material. Sure, he helped save New York from that Alien attack and what not, but that doesn't change the fact that he used to be a raving alcoholic, who was in the papers with a new scandal almost every other month. And he used to make his money as a warlord. And who even knows if he has actually changed?”

He was drunk, he was drunk, he was drunk.  
  
_(“The thing about alcohol, Pete, is that it doesn't have to be a bad thing. There is nothing wrong with indulging in a drink every now and again. And it doesn't automatically turn you into a bad guy if you go and get black out drunk once or twice. But if you aren't careful, and let yourself become dependent on it, that 'once or twice' thing becomes an 'all the time' thing. And the occasional drink becomes a regular drink. And that's when you turn into the_ _**worst** _ _version of yourself. And really, you only have yourself to blame. Before I became Ironman, actually, even while I_ _**was** _ _Ironman in the beginning, I did and said a lot of things I regret. And you know how people sometimes compare alcohol to a truth serum? That's both right and wrong. Alcohol lowers your inhibitions and that makes you do and say stuff you wouldn't have otherwise considered. So being drunk doesn't just somehow conjure uncharitable thoughts into your head, doesn't just make you aware of flaws or faults about the people around you. To a certain degree, those thoughts were already there to begin with. But there is a_ _**reason** _ _why we don't usually voice them. Take me for example. A few years ago, when I was still too stupid and self absorbed to actually acknowledge that I was an alcoholic and that it was turning into a problem, I downed a bottle of a really fine wine and accused Pepper that she was only with me for my money. Only I didn't put it quite so nicely. And the really hideous thing about this is, there was a tiny part of me that actually believed it. I have been rich and famous my whole life, kiddo, and for most of my life, every person around me wanted to use me for either my money, fame, or genius. I wasn't really used to people wanting to be with me, for just me. Rhodey had always been the one exception, and even_ _**him** _ _I doubted at times. The thing is, if I hadn't been drunk, I would have_ _**never** _ _said anything like that to Pepper. Because while a teeny, tiny part of my severely self-pitying mind might have carried such thoughts inside it, a far larger part of me knew,_ _**absolutely knew** _ _, that I loved this woman and that she truly loved me. And that's another downside of alcohol, because it somehow manages to switch those parts of us around. Because a sober, clearly thinking me, would have never uttered those vile words that did nothing but hurt her. Take your aunt for another example. I don't think there is a spell even the great 'Master of the mystic Arts' Stephen Strange could cast, that would make her a decent cook. And thank god she has taken me up on my offer to pay for regular take out. But whenever she does swing her unfairly attractive self in the kitchen and make something, you eat it all anyway and tell her you loved it. Because there is absolutely no reason to hurt her feelings over something like this. So, just because certain thoughts exist, doesn't mean they always have to be expressed. And if they do, then the people around us deserve to have us express those thoughts in a civilized and loving manner. And not get them hurled at in a fit of drunken stupor. Being a good person doesn't mean never having any bad or mean thoughts. It doesn't mean never wanting to really hurt the bad guys you fight. It means doing the right thing_ _**in spite** _ _of that. Because sometimes, the things you don't do, are just as important as the things you do.”)_

Peter took yet another step back, away from the still advancing Jeremy, and bumped into the door frame connecting the living room to the hallway. His ribs were not happy about that one and his watch sent out another angry beep. “You probably shouldn't drive like that, I can call you a cab.”

But again, the man ignored him. It took only two more steps for Jeremy to stand directly in front of him and the tall man wasted no time in bracing one of his hands directly beside the teenagers head, the other hand waving the still burning cigarette to and fro, as he leaned in.

“So, Peter, what I want you to **understand** , is that _I get it_. You need a confidant.” (He had his friends for that.) “Someone you can trust and depend on.” (He had Aunt May and Tony and Pepper and Happy and Rhodey and a bunch of other people he would turn to before he ever turned to **stupid** - _yes, that was back_ \- Jeremy.) “And a father figure.” (His Dad was filling that role just fine, thank you very much) “A firm hand to guide you. And I can be that for you, my boy. You just need to work with me a little. Follow my rules. Learn your place.”

This was enough. “You need to leave. I'm going to call you a cab. You are too drunk to-”

Peter would never know why he didn't react to the warning his Spidey-sense gave him right then. Maybe it was the fact that he was so overwhelmed with the things going through his mind, and the situation as a whole. Maybe it was because the ever growing pain in his torso distracted him from it. But suddenly there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, his face was harshly turned to the side, and there was a stinging heat in his cheek.

And Jeremy was screaming.

“You don't tell me what to do you little shit! Here I am, _graciously_ offering my valuable time for a good for nothing fucking kid like you, and you dare talk back at me?! You think I give a shit about what you want?”

Sensitive hearing ringing from the sudden change in volume, Peter was still feeling slightly disoriented when harsh fingers - the same ones belonging to the hand that had just struck him - took his chin firmly between them and turned his head around to look into Jeremy's furious eyes. His watch was beeping louder now.

“Now here is what is gonna happen, boy. I'm going to punish you for being such a useless, **fucking** burden on everyone around you. And you are going to take it and prove to me that you are actually worth wasting my time on! And if you are a very, _very good boy_ -” He used the grip he still had on Peter's chin to tilt his head back slightly, so that the teenager could just see the still burning cigarette being held a few inches away from his throat. “- I won't have to mess up your pretty, delicate skin.”

It was strange, Peter thought as he slowly lifted a trembling hand up to the one holding the cigarette close to his throat, to feel so many things at once. So many different things that you feel trapped between them. Like moving through thick molasses.  
Jeremy saw the movement, but made no attempt to stop the teenager from wrapping his skinny little fingers around his wrist. He mistook the trembling in the smaller hand for fear. The obvious delight that shone through the man's eyes because of that made Peter sick.

The delight quickly turned into confusion, however, when the boy used his surprisingly strong grip on his wrist to bring the cigarette _closer_ and then _burned his own throat with it_.

Peter gritted his teeth against the pain. He wasn't a masochist. He didn't enjoy pain, neither causing nor receiving it. But right now, he needed it. The burn was grounding. He had been too angry, too sad, too overwhelmed, too _young again and confused and helpless and scared andpleasesomeone **helphim!**_

It was a bodily reaction. A survival instinct. 

Pain trumps fear.

He watched as Jeremy's eyes took on yet another disturbing gleam, looking at the small, round burn mark the cigarette had left behind, as if mesmerized. He was misreading the situation again. Thinking the teenager liked this. Wanted this. Peter wanted to vomit. 

He did the next best thing.  
The resounding crack of bones breaking was followed quickly by Jeremy howling in surprised pain. The man wrenched his broken wrist out of the boy's grip and cradled it against his chest. 

"Aaargh! You fucking little-" It was as far as he got, before Peter punched him in the mouth. Nothing cracked this time, strength back under his careful control. Spiderman knew how to pull his punches, even when he was angry. 

"I wanted to like you, Jeremy. I wasn't thrilled about you smoking and drinking in here, but I would have given you another chance if you had left it at that." He could have forgiven the words. Tony had spoken truthfully and openly with Peter about his past alcoholism. And Peter had listened and understood. Alcohol, if you gave it the power to, could turn you into the worst version of yourself. But Tony had never gone beyond hurtful words. The worst version of Tony Stark, had never lifted a hand against the people he loved and had never sought to cause pain or misery for those around him. And once Tony finally got a hold of himself, he owned up to his mistakes. He acknowledged his problem, got qualified help, apologized over and over to the people he loved until they forgave him, and then some more, until he forgave himself. Tony was a loving person, but not because he didn't know hatred. He wasn't a good role-model because he never made mistakes. He had turned into an amazing father for Peter, but not because he had always wanted to be one, and not because he himself had been raised by a good one.

 _("Being a good person doesn't mean never having any bad or mean thoughts. It doesn't mean never wanting to really hurt the bad guys you fight. It means doing the right thing_ _**in spite**  _ _of that. Because sometimes, the things you don't do, are just as important as the things you do.”)_

"I wanted my aunt to be happy. I wanted for her to have a loving relationship with someone who would treat her the way she deserves." The man rushed him, trying to bowl him over, but Peter wouldn't even have needed his Spider-reflexes to avoid the drunk, sluggish mess of uncoordinated movements to step aside and let Jeremy plow straight into the wall. He slid down to the floor, moaning and cupping his head with his good hand.

"Because in a world that is already teeming with extraordinary women, Aunt May is still the most exceptional of them all." Jeremy was trying to claw his way up the wall, standing on unsteady feet, eyes blazing with anger, face red. And if he didn't need to keep a hand on the door frame to stay upright, he would probably have gone for Peter again.

"And she definitely does **not** deserve some raving, drunk, _excuse_ for a man who thinks he can just hurl this kind of abuse around." This time it had been Peter. Next time it could have been Aunt May. Peter would never, **ever** , let anyone hurt his family.

It seemed Jeremy hadn't learned his lesson yet. Fueled by the fury and alcohol still running through his veins, he stumbled from the wall and, in what his stupid brain likely considered running, tried attacking the teen once more. Peter just snorted, reared back his arm "Nighty night, stupid Jeremy." and knocked him out. 

The body fell to the floor, motionless but for the breaths it took. Peter was breathing heavily himself. The fight, if one could call it that, hadn't been physically taxing. But emotionally? That was a different thing. He felt exhausted. And strangely disappointed, as he looked down at the man currently drooling into their carpet. Aunt May deserved so much better. She would be devastated about this all. His watch beeped shrilly, and it was only then that Peter became aware again of this throbbing, painful chest. The bone bruises hadn't bothered him after Jeremy had crowded him against the wall. That's what adrenaline did to you. He held his arm against his ribs, alleviating at least some of the pain. He would need to take off the bandages and stuff them somewhere out of sight. The cigarette burn at least would remain for about a day, but he knew that whatever kind of imprint Jeremy's hand had left on his cheek, would be gone in a matter of hours. 

Peter dug into his jeans pocket, and took out his phone. He slowly made his way through the living room and pointedly passed the couch, where Jeremy had sat and where his bottle of Scotch was still sitting on the table, to carefully sit down in the cushioned chair on the other side. His ribs ached and forced out a groan from pressed together lips. He dialed. 

His watch beeped again. Everything hurt. The pills would have to wait.

"Uhm,. Hey, hi, Detective Sanchez? It's Peter... Yes, yes, sorry. Rosa. Hi Rosa. ... Good, no... wait. Actually, not so good. ... I... I need to report a crime."

 

 

* * *

 

 

I know I said this would only be 2 chapters. But this one got away from me a little and turned out to be a lot longer than anticipated. I know that some people struggle with reading long chapters, be that due to dyslexia or ADHD or something else. So I decided to stop here, and pack the rest into a third chapter. Otherwise this chapter would have had way over 10000 words. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this so far. I will try to produce the last chapter sooner this time. Thank you all for the time you put in to give this story a go. 

 

 

 


	3. No one likes Authors notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, this is not the promised third and last chapter, I swear I'm working on it right now though.   
> Nevertheless, this is something I would like to ask you to read and think about, as it was prompted by an anonymous review.

Not a chapter, new chapter is in the works. But if you have the time and patience to read through this, I would really like to know your thoughts on it.

 

Here is the thing; I do not want you to read what follows and just blindly agree with me. I do not want you to accept my uneducated opinion on a theory as fact. But I do want you to read what I'm about to tell you and think about it.

So, indulge me on a tangent.

Everyone of us has had a certain history with reading books, comics or fanfiction and watching series or movies. Depending on how many things you have read/seen, you might notice that after a while, plot-lines simply become predictable. That is not the fault of the story's creator.

There are hundreds of thousands of stories out there, so it is not a surprise that at some point, most things are repeated in one way or another. And some plot points or twists are done more often than others.

Usually to build up drama. I myself have never been a fan of unnecessary drama. You may have noticed my use of the word 'unnecessary'. Let me explain.

A certain dose of drama is unavoidable in pretty much every series (be that in the form of literature or a visual medium), depending on it's length, circumstances, nature, genre, as well as number and variety of characters.   
And that's okay, as long as it stays in line with the characters behavior and the world around them, as we have gotten to know it.

But sometimes (many times) a story's plot line will forcefully steer either a character or circumstances into a certain direction, for the sole purpose of creating additional drama. It is usually the worst decision the character could make at this point in time, and it usually has massive consequences, especially regarding the characters relationship with any one of their friends, family, or lovers.

And this is usually the part where I sit and watch (or read) and think to myself: “No, why would you do that? That is so not necessary. I can think of a dozen ways this could have been resolved better in the five minutes I've watched you brooding about it for three days. This does not fit into the characters actions so far, why would they do this? This is just making things harder for yourself.” Etc, etc.

But the thing is, it's going to happen.  
I know it's going to happen.  
Everyone who has ever watched a TV series knows it's going to happen.

These (forced, unnecessarily dramatic) things simply happen in stories again and again and again, until their existence isn't even questioned anymore.

Now, some time ago, my sister and I started watching 'Grimm'. I don't want to explain the whole plot to anyone unfamiliar with the series, so let me just quickly paint a rough picture for you, so you will be able to understand the point I'm trying to make.

Nick is what is called a Grimm, a human with the ability to identify and fight supernatural being, that intend to harm or kill humans.  
Being a Grimm, as well as the existence of the supernatural world, was something that was usually kept close the the vest. For one thing because most people in modern society wouldn't believe you and probably throw you into a psychiatric institution; and for another thing because the people who do believe you would be placed in great danger because of it. - This was actually very well explained in the series.  
Anyway, that is the reason why Nick did his best to keep his side job a secret from his fiance, Juliette.   
He teamed up with Monroe, who is a Werewolf (not exactly accurate, but easier to explain) and the two of them formed a strong friendship throughout the series.   
Nick had a trailer that held all the information so far gathered on various supernatural creatures, as well as miscellaneous weaponry to fight them.   
This trailer was also the only thing that his late aunt (who raised him and was also a Grimm), left for him, so it had huge sentimental value on top of being useful.  
As one probably already guessed, despite all the caution and secrecy, Nick's fiance, Juliette, get's caught up in some witches revenge plan and falls into a coma.   
When she awakens for that, she can't remember Nick at all, but everything else about her life so far.   
Here is where the juicy part comes in.  
In the quest to bring back the memories of Juliette's loving fiance, she requests for Monroe to tell her what Nick is hiding from her.  
Which is of course, Nick being a Grimm and all that is supernatural.

  
Now here is where my sister and I looked at each other and sighed.   
_“You know whats gonna happen now.”_  
 _“Yeah. Monroe is gonna try to help by taking Juliette to the trailer and telling her all about demons and Grimm and whatnot”_  
 _“Yeah, but it's gonna backfire and then Nick finds out and he will be butt-hurt and angry because he feels like Monroe betrayed his trust or something.”_  
 _“Yeah, and then the two are gonna fight and not talk with each other for a couple of episodes, until something happens and one almost dies and after that they will slowly start to trust each other again.”_  
 _“Exactly. It may take a few episodes more for Juliette to come around though.”_  
That was pretty much our conversation right then.

  
Because as I have said in the beginning, plot points and twists are bound to repeat themselves.   
This has been done before, this is the kind of thing that happens in this kind of situation, we have all seen this, possibly more than once.  
  
 **But** , and here is the kicker, that is not what actually happened.  
  
Instead, Monroe _called_ Nick, _explained_ the situation to him, said he thought it might help to show Juliette the trailer and _asked_ for Nicks permission to reveal things to Juliette.  
Nick _listened_ to Monroe, _gave_ his blessing, _thanked_ him for letting him know and guess what, it actually _helped_.

And my sister and I sat there and we were like: What? What just happened? Are you actually telling me that this can be done without additional drama? Are you actually telling me that characters can find a reasonable, mature, open way to deal with things? They don't _have_ to suffer even more than circumstances already force them to?

We were honestly so floored by this truly unexpected turn of events, that we paused the episode and fangirled about it in absolute delight.

I still adore this scene to this day.

But it got me thinking.

You see, some of the story lines we come across so often in fiction, are usually intended to be something of a 'teaching tool'.

Producers and writers can reach their audiences and use particular plot devices to impart certain lessons. Let's take domestic abuse for example.

This is a plot device often used in fiction and fanfiction alike. It is not repeated so often because people get off on seeing their beloved characters abused and miserable _(Let's leave the kink talk for another time.)_

It's primary purpose (as I see it), is to help people understand that this stuff happens. It can happen to anyone, at any time, done by anyone (people you trust, people you love, strangers and acquaintances alike).   
This story-line is supposed to show you that no one asks to be abused and that no one deserves it.

That abuse can come in many forms, that it can be subtle and slow, as well as direct and sudden.

It's supposed to teach you that no one has the right to abuse you in any way and that you deserve better.

And that is _of course_ a good and noble cause, if this plot device can actually accomplish that.

However, domestic abuse in TV-series, movies or writing, often follows a very similar pattern.

Someone gets abused over a length of time, until someone else notices that something is wrong. The abuse escalates just in time for the person who noticed the signs to come to the rescue of the abused, and then things will take a turn for the better.

Now, my thought process here is, are we accidentally sending the wrong message?

_Hear me out_.

Just like we have become so used to all the forced, unnecessary drama in stories, just as my sister and I had been resigned to watch (what we thought would be) many episodes of suffering characters and misplaced guilt and redemption, are we _somehow_ telling the victims of domestic abuse that there is a certain process they have to go through before they can be saved?

Are we, completely unintentionally, saying something like:   
“You _have_ to go through an undetermined amount of pain and degradation to justify that you are being abused.”  
“You _can't_ just go to the police with this, and if you do, no one there will believe you anyway.”  
“You are _helpless_.”  
“Just sit back and suffer a little longer, you will be saved eventually. Just, you _can't_ do it yourself. You are the _**victim**_.”

 

This is not me bashing any and all forms of media that handle this plot.

This is not me accusing anyone of making a bad situation worse.

I will assure you now that that is **NOT **my intention.

This is me, giving you a little more insight to some of the thought process that fueled this fanfiction.

This is me, exploring an alternative to this type of story.

This is me, hoping to teach by good example, instead of showing what not to do.

If someone is abusing you, then that is not your fault, **it's theirs**.

If they tell you you deserve this, **they are lying**.

If they tell you you are worthless, **they are lying**.

If you feel helpless, then that's because **they made you** feel this way.

If the people around you can't see that something is wrong, that **doesn't mean** that you need to suffer more for it to show.

If there is no one around to rescue you, that **doesn't mean** you don't deserve help.

Tell someone.   
Go to a hospital and speak to a doctor.   
Go to the police and report your abuser.   
Tell your distant uncle, or your friends, or your teacher, or your student adviser, google for support groups in your vicinity.

Your abuser has forced you into the role of a victim, through **no fault of your own**. Don't stay in it.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how much of this came across so far, but I am ignoring the plots and happenings of both Civil War and Infinity War. Infinity War makes me cry and I didn't like Civil War. I have written down why here: https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/182870888919/team-spiderman
> 
> Though it doesn't matter a lot, since the other Avengers aren't going to appear here, please imagine that everyone was an actual grown up and they worked out the issues with the accords like the adults they were supposed to be. Tony was going to recruit Spiderman for a confrontation with the rogues, but then found out that that was actually a 14 year old under the mask, realized that his fears were making him desperate enough to even consider recruiting a child, did some deep soul searching and then approached Steve in a calmer manner. Steve likewise chose to get over himself and approached the situation with more rationality and honesty, and things got resolved peacefully. Then Tony came back and ACTUALLY MENTORED Peter.  
> Good? Good.
> 
> I didn't spend as much time as usual going over this chapter, so there might be a few mistakes. If you find any, please point them out to me, so I can correct them later on.  
> Update: I think I got them!

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

Virginia 'Pepper' Potts was equal parts amused, enamored and exasperated, with the way her future husband kept checking his mobile for updates from Peter's Starkwatch. Amused because Tony still refused to confess to his helicopter parent tendencies.

“Tony, they just left the building. It's roughly a thirty minute drive to Queens.”

“We should have waited for the first dose of painkillers to wear off, and then have him take the second one here, before letting him go home. What if the pills wear off while he is still in the car? He is gonna be in pain, that's what.”

Enamored because his worry over the boy, who had become his surrogate son, showed how much he had grown on an emotional level over the last few years, and she loved him all the more for it.

“Honey, it's been barely five minutes since you last checked on his vitals. He is not going to spontaneously combust.”

“You don't know that!”

And exasperated because this was an important meeting and even if he wasn't the CEO anymore, he still needed to pay attention!

“Tony, the app and Friday will alarm you to any significant changes. I'm serious, put down the phone, now.”

“But Pep! What if one of these dimwits says something so incredibly stupid, that my brain shuts down in self-defense and I miss the alarm?!”

Seeing the insulted looks of their investors, shareholders and financial department managers all around her, Pepper decided right then and there that she was going to handle all future meetings that didn't strictly require her fiances genius input, without Tony.

Having resigned herself to just let Tony obsess and cyber-stalk their boy, Pepper was actually able to get the meeting back on track and make some headway, until Tony suddenly sprung up from his seat.

“Aha! Hormone spike in his vitals signifying pain. I knew the kid would forget to take the damn painkillers.”

He was about to storm off, to no doubt jump into one of his suits and fly over to the Parker home and harass poor Peter into coming back to the tower and the med bay with him, when Pepper grabbed his shirt and unceremoniously pulled him back down into his chair.

“First, a sudden spike in his hormones is not a surefire indicator of him being in pain. Second, Peter might still not be home yet. You know how traffic is around this time of day.”

And though he grumbled about it, Tony stayed put.

For three and a half minutes.

“There! There was another spike right now!”

And once again Pepper pulled him down into his seat.

“Friday, could you please give us Peter's location?”

Friday's voice sounded from the ceiling. “According to the GPS signal in both his watch and phone, the young master has just entered the Parker residence.”

She shot Tony a satisfied look. “There, see? He just got home. Give him a minute to actually take his pills before you go flying off.”

Pepper was finally able to bring the meeting to a close soon after that and dismiss the other people in the room. However, the little 'pain spike' updates from Peter's watch kept coming in, and Tony consequentially got more and more anxious, no matter her many reassurances.

“Maybe he just hasn't gotten around to it yet.”  
“Maybe he wanted to eat something first.”  
“The pills don't work right away, you know that.”

However, at the fifteen minute mark after Peter had gotten home, even Pepper was getting slightly worried.

“Okay, call him.”

Which Tony did immediately, only to get a busy signal.*

“See? He is probably talking to Ned or MJ and forgot to take his next dose.”

Tony wasn't reassured.

“But he is clearly in pain, Pep. How does one forget to take the thing that would relieve one of the pain that one is feeling right then? I should just fly over real quick-”

“No. You are just going to guilt trip the poor kid into coming back here so you can monitor him even more.”  
She couldn't deny her own worry though. After all, she loved the boy, too.  
“You can call Happy. He shouldn't be too far away yet. He can turn around and check on Peter, without putting the whole neighborhood into an uproar because Ironman just broke down the door and kidnapped a teenager right before their eyes.”

And if Peter managed to take his painkillers before Happy got there and the alarms from the app would finally stop, all the better.

Tony grumbled anew while he waited for Happy to pick up the call. “Like I would have needed to break down the door.... it's not even kidnapping if it's my own kid.... damn those nosy neighbors... Hey Happy!”

As Tony told a very unhappy Happy to drive back the way he had just come from, Pepper mentally prepared herself for the next fifteen to twenty minutes. Because until Tony got confirmation that Peter was not in any more unnecessary pain, he was going to be an anxious, worried, fretting mess.

Anthony Stark had never been a patient man. It wasn't in his nature to sit by and wait for something. He was a genius in many aspects of science, but he was a mechanic at heart. If something was broken, he fixed it. If something didn't work to it's utmost capability, he improved it. He was rarely idle, his brain too busy with thinking up the next project, and the next breakthrough, and the next improvement. While this wasn't necessarily a bad quality to have, in situations like this, it just served to highlight how much trouble the man still had with handling his emotions.

Not so much showing and sharing his affection with the people he loved, thank god. That had improved leaps and bounds first with Pepper, and then even more with Peter's presence in their lives.  
But things like fear, worry or anger still sometimes left Tony feeling helpless in their wake. And when Tony felt helpless, he overcompensated.  
Aliens attacked the earth? Tony dreamed up putting armor all around it.  
A terrorist almost killed his friend? Tony told the guy his home address and goaded him into a direct confrontation.  
Someone tried to kidnap the boy he loved like his own son? Tony designed a watch that could not be taken off (other than by Tony himself) and would keep track of his well being 24/7.

Pepper didn't blame her fiance for what happened with Ultron or the Mandarin, knowing that it had been a fear based reaction and he had only had the best intentions. But as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

The way he had handled Peter's almost kidnapping could actually be considered an improvement to how he might have reacted to something like this not even two years ago.

Nobody was perfect and nobody should be. A good relationship wasn't defined by neither partner having any faults or flaws. It was about seeing each other for who you truly are, helping and supporting each other and growing _together_.

Years ago, Pepper had been a personal assistant and fallen in love with her narcissistic, philanthropic, self indulgent, severely damaged, alcoholic, billionaire playboy boss. Now she was the CEO of a fortune 500 company and deeply, undoubtedly in love with a man who, to a certain degree, was still a bit of all those things, but was also a more experienced Superhero, a dedicated mentor, an overprotective but loving father, and her future husband.

The Avengers had become good friends, and all had living accommodations in both the tower and compound. Clint was actually in the process of moving his wife and kids into the tower, knowing they would be well protected there. Natasha was on a solo mission somewhere highly confidential. Steve and Sam had taken it upon themselves to reacquaint a recovered James Barnes with a life free of Hydra's brainwashing, and were currently touring through America. Bruce had been asked to hold several guest lectures at a university out of state. Wanda and Vision were on vacation. No one knew where Thor was, but the god had a habit of vanishing and turning back up out of the blue, possibly with his reluctant brother in tow. Scott Lang had temporarily resigned from any and all Avenger business (barring an emergency), as he was currently entangled in a legal battle for a more equal custodial agreement over his daughter. Pepper and Tony had promised the man the support of their highly paid and competent lawyer team, but it seemed that Lang and his partner, Hope van Dyne, had a strong case.

Happy and Rhodey continued to be great and loyal companions to everyone, and to Tony, Pepper and the Parkers in particular. May Parker had quickly become one of Peppers best friends and Peter... Peter was their kid.

Tony and her had grown together and created an amazing family for themselves, and Pepper knew that they would continue growing even further from this point onwards. And so Pepper calmed and comforted and reassured her pacing fiance as she always had. As she always would. After a while, she was even able to coax him into sitting down next to her, holding his hand and stroking his shoulder, while they waited for Happy to call.

And then he did.

"Boss, I think you need to get over here."

These nine words threw any previous illusion of calm right out of the window, as both Pepper and Tony jumped up from the couch.

"Why? What's going on, Happy? Friday, my suit!"

Happy's unsteady and tense voice came over the towers communication system, as the Mark 42 assembled around Tony's body. "I don't know. There is a bunch of cops here and an ambulance. Non of the officers are letting me into the house and the only thing I got out of one so far, is that this is an active crime scene."

Pepper gasped, wide eyed and terrified. "Oh god. Oh god. I- I should have let you go. You were right. I should have... if something happened to him because I-" But before she could panic any more, metal encased hands grabbed onto her shoulders and turned her to look straight into her fiance's eyes.

"Stop. Honey, it's going to be alright. This isn't your fault. Calm down and think about this. Whatever happened, Peter is fine. Okay? The watch would have informed us of any minor or major injury. It.. It's okay. Peter is okay. He is in pain, but he is _okay_. Pep? Love, you hear me? It's going to be okay."

This, right there, was why she loved this man. Because Tony must have been going out of his mind himself with worry, but he pushed it all aside in order to be there for her. And so Pepper took a deep breath and closed her eyes in hopes of regaining her composure. "I'm going to get a hold of Helen. Make sure she is ready in case Peter needs her. Go, hurry."

Tony nodded and they shared a quick kiss, before the metallic faceplate of the suit slammed shut. "I will call you as soon as I can."

And then he was gone.

* * *

 

Peter was just finishing up his statement for Rosa, when his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of thrusters, metal plates reforming, and running footsteps accompanied by a frantic voice. "What happened here? Where is my son? If you don't get out of my way right now I swear to god-" Then there was some sort of movement and conversation that he couldn't quite make out, and then a heavily panting Tony Stark stood in the entrance of the living room. And Peter felt an inexplicable wave of pure relief wash over him. "Dad."

Tony was on him in a flash. "God, kid." Strong arms engulfed him in a hug and his abused ribs protested the loving act, Peter didn't care, and hugged the man back as well as he could. But his watch gave another angry beep which Tony must have heard, because he was drawing away the next second. The hands stayed on his shoulders though.  
"Pete? What happened?" One hand strayed from his shoulder to brush back a few stray locks from his eyes. "Tell me where it hurts. What's going on?" The sharp eyes of the genius mechanic scanned over every available part of the teen in front of him, and it was no surprise that it didn't take long for them to land on Peter's throat. "Is that a burn?!"

Before Tony could enter full blown panic mode, Peter wrapped a hand around the adults wrist, squeezed it softly, and then turned to the female detective sitting on the couch next to him. "Can... can we have a few minutes, please? I would rather talk to him about this in private."

The woman's smile was soft and understanding, and Peter wondered how often she had had to do this before. She closed the little moleskin that she had used to record his statement with, and stood up. "Of course, Peter. I need to check in with Mahoney anyway. He should be back with your aunt any minute now." Then she looked him deep into the eyes. "Listen, I need to send off the ambulance with that piece of shit. Are you sure you don't want one of the paramedics to check up on you real quick?"

It was easily apparent what she wanted his answer to be, but Peter quickly shook his head. "No. No, I'm... I'm okay, for now, I promise. The medical examination, - I know that I have to,... but, later. Please, Rosa." The woman nodded sympathetically, gave him a tight smile and then walked out of the room. She passed by Happy, who had placed himself at the entrance like a sentry, carefully monitoring what was going on around two of the people he had sworn to protect, while still giving the father and son duo some privacy.

Tony took the seat the detective had vacated, never taking his eyes off the kid that meant so fucking much to him for even a second. He wanted to hug Peter and never let go and never let anything get close enough to hurt the kid ever again, but he settled for placing a calming hand on the arm closest to him, and lightly stroking up and down. And then Peter told him what happened with Jeremy.

Tony was going to fucking explode.

He wanted to get back into his suit and chase after that ambulance and rip Jeremy apart. He wanted to get his bare hands around that assholes throat and squeeze until his fucking head popped off. He wanted to lay into him until his own knuckles were red with blood. Shooting him to the moon would never be enough.  
He squashed each and every violent, furious thought he had right then, though, because he could not, _would not_ , leave Peter alone right now. He was going to pack up Peter and May and move them into the tower for the next several days. Maybe weeks. Where he could keep an eye on them. Where Friday had eyes and ears everywhere and something like this would never happen again.  
Logically, he knew that Peter had handled the situation, and handled it well. But that didn't make it okay. What if Peter didn't have superpowers? What if Peter had been _just_ that much more hurt, for it to be debilitating enough for fucking Jeremy to take advantage of? What if Jeremy himself had been less drunk, or a more experienced abuser?  
It could have just as easily been a defenseless May in her nephews place. Peter would never have been able to get over that.  
What if the next asshole that came around was armed? Or enhanced? Or both?  
He was going to move them into the tower, for now. Maybe for longer. Maybe forever. They could have their own floor if they wanted, or move in with Tony and Pepper on theirs. They already had their own rooms on the couple's floor, and there were still many rooms left on it. An additional kitchen and enough bathrooms for everyone. Pepper would agree with him. She loved having them over.  
Pepper! He needed to call Pepper. She still didn't know what was going on. But he couldn't leave Peter. He couldn't.

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted when a distraught looking May, still in her hospital scrubs, came rushing in, running straight for her nephew.

"Peter!" She was perching on the arm of the big chair in the very next moment, her arm curled around his shoulders, the other hand on the back of his head, pressing it into her shoulder and running her fingers through his hair. "Oh god, baby." She was crying. "What did he do to you? Oh god. I will kill him. That no good lowlife son of a bitch. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry." Peter had never been able to stand his aunts tears. "No, May, don't cry. It's not your fault. I'm okay. I promise I'm okay. Please don't cry."

As the two held and comforted each other, Tony very reluctantly got up from the couch and walked over to Happy, though he made sure to keep the two Parkers in his sight at all times. Which, to be honest, made for a bit of an awkward half backwards walk. The burly bodyguard slash driver had already gotten the gist of what happened with May's  _very much_ EX-boyfriend, and Tony filled in the blanks as he asked him to call Pepper and tell her what had happened. He should probably do it himself, but he was already getting nervous about the little bit of distance he had put between himself and Peter, and he couldn't possibly leave the room to make that call right now. Happy understood. Happy always understood. Tony was back on the couch before the other man had fully left the room. May was wiping away tears whenever her fingers weren't carding through the brown mop of her nephews hair, her arm never having left his shoulders. Peter himself hadn't cried, but he looked wrecked all the same. And pale. Really fucking pale. Another beep from the watch around the kids wrist finally reminded Tony of something he wanted to kick himself for forgetting about.

"What about your ribs? Did that asshole get you there? You still haven't taken your painkiller, have you? Where is your bag? How bad is it? Let me see." He was bunching up the material of Peter's shirt before the teenager had even a chance to answer any of the questions. He didn't even know what he was doing. He had no medical degree to his name and unless he suddenly developed x-ray vision, it wasn't like he would be able to check on anything, anyway. He wouldn't even be able to assess the damage done through the bandages Peter was... NOT WEARING!

"Pete," he was able to keep his voice remarkably calm as he stared transfixed at the blue, black and purple mess marring the otherwise pale skin of the kids bare chest, "where are your bandages?"

The teen cringed slightly, looking to the side. As if he had done something wrong. "I... I took them off.... I ... I know it's wrong to pin this on him.... but the bruise from him slapping me will be gone by tomorrow, and... and I thought the cigarette burn might not be enough,... and it's not an intimidated 19 year old this time around and... I'm sorry..."

And Tony had no idea what that very last bit right there meant, but May looked absolutely shocked and guilty and horrified and _knowing_ , as she turned Peter's face gently, oh so gently, to look up at her. "No. No, baby. You did the right thing. Don't apologize. Never apologize for this. Who knows what he would have done if you hadn't defended yourself. That jerk deserves to have this used against him. You did good, Pete." Then she pressed him back into her upper half as much as she could without aggravating his ribs further and resumed stroking his head in a calming, loving way.

There was more to this. Tony wanted to ask especially about that tidbit about an intimidated 19 year old, but May caught his eyes just as he was about to open his mouth, and shook her head while sending him a pleading look. _'Later'_ , she mouthed, and looked down at the boy in her arms. Tony nodded.

"May is right, Pete. Nothing to be sorry about. That scumbag is gonna get what he deserves, and nothing less. So what if he wasn't personally responsible for your ribs? He would have probably done worse, if he could have. Just because he unknowingly took on Spiderman, doesn't mean he shouldn't get punished for raising his hand against a child." The words tasted like bile in his mouth. That piece of shit had hit and threatened his kid, and would have done worse, if Peter wasn't who he was. He wanted to break every bone in Jeremy's body. 

Peter nodded and sighed lightly in relief. "I told Rosa; that's detective Sanchez, who took my statement, that he broke his wrist when he missed one of his punches to my chest and hit the wall instead. And that I used it to my advantage to shove him away from me, and that he stumbled backwards and hit his head on the table and knocked himself out."

Tony nodded and squeezed Peter's shoulder proudly. "Quick thinking. You did good, kid."

"They took photos of the burn and the bruises, but Rosa said that I needed to go to the hospital to further document my injuries and to make sure I get the medical care I need. But I can't go to a normal hospital, dad. They will take blood samples and x-rays and then they will see the bone bruises and want me to come in for follow up appointments and then they are going to wonder why my ribs are already healed after a week, when they should be taking much longer than that, and they will look at my blood and see that it's not entirely human and-"

Tony interrupted, because the kid was dangerously close to hyperventilating. "Hey, hey, Underroos. It's okay. Breathe with me, come on. It's going to be okay." He stroked up and down the slightly trembling arm, as the teen slowly got his breathing back under control. "I will take care of it, okay? Don't worry about anything. I will tell the detectives out front that we will have our personal physician handle your exam. Helen is certified for pretty much anything, she will have no problem with tweaking things enough to fit your story and keep your spidery DNA out of it. We've got this, okay? I got you."

And thank god, _finally_ something he could actually do. He had felt so utterly useless just listening to Peter recounting the events, wishing he had been there, wishing he could have intervened and spared his son the experience all together. But this he could do. Make sure Peter's identity remained secret. Make sure the police got all the evidence they needed to lock up that scumbag for years to come. Make sure his family was safe.

He called Pepper right away, who, bless her, had thought three steps ahead of them all, and had already asked the good doctor to keep on standby at the tower. Happy had long since returned to his place in the entryway, standing guard.

Peter finally felt able to relax. Everything had been so tense and stressful. He had been so worried about giving his statement to Rosa, about the moral of his decision to take off the bandages and tell the police that Jeremy was responsible for his heavily discolored skin. So nervous about the impending medical examination, and how it might impact the case against Jeremy if he refused to have a doctor properly document his injuries.  
But it was good now. Aunt May was here, and Happy was here, and Tony and Pepper were taking care of everything now. He breathed deeply. He could relax now. His family was there for him. He was safe.

May had gone to fetch his backpack and get his pills out. She made him take two of them, while Tony told the detectives about Dr. Cho. Happy had packed both Parkers an overnight bag (which they didn't really need, as they both had plenty of clothes and other essentials in their rooms in the tower, but it was still a nice gesture), and carefully herded May, Peter and Tony into the car he had driven over. Detectives Mahoney and Sanchez had okay'd to let Dr. Cho handle the medical examination and documentation, but said they would have to accompany them to the tower to receive the doctor's report personally. Something about not breaking the chain of evidence. As long as they didn't need to be in the examination room with him (they didn't), Peter was fine with that. The pills kicked in five minutes into their drive, and Peter relaxed further into the warm embraces of both his aunt and father, who had bracketed him between them in the backseat.  
It was good.  
He had his family.  
They were safe.

* * *

Back at the tower's lobby, the detectives had been provided some food and beverages, while they patiently waited for Dr. Cho to deliver her full report on Peter. Said teenager was currently in the towers medical room with the doctor, who wanted to take another look at his ribs to make sure they hadn't sustained any more damage. And since the teenager had very politely refused all offers from the adults around him about staying with him during the examination (he appreciated their worry, but he knew they would smother him soon enough, so he decided to give himself and them a little break before that), Happy, Pepper, May and Tony were currently clustered in the room directly adjacent to him.

While Tony would much rather be beside Peter right now, this was probably the only opportunity he was going to get for a while. "May? Back at the house, that thing Peter said about Jeremy not being an intimidated 19 year old... What was that about?"

The woman clutched the coffee cup in her hand tightly, a wealth of memories and emotions flitting through her eyes right then. "When Peter was seven, he had only been living with Ben and me for a little over a year back then... Peter had been a very lonely child, too smart for most of his peers, too shy to approach anyone on his own, still mourning the loss of his parents... we were worried that he was isolating himself too much. The local library had this program, a kind of reading cycle. Everyone who joined would get the same book to take home to read, and discuss a few days later with everyone else. There was no age limit and we thought it might help Peter get out of his shell a little, meet others who share his passion for reading and learning, so we signed him up. Ben and I were so happy when he came home on the very first day, and told us all about his super cool new friend that he had made. His name was Steven Westcott, though he liked being called Skip. He was 19 years old, a freshman at the local college. He seemed so polite... called us by mam and sir, would always listen when Peter started rambling about whatever new article he had read in some science magazine, called him a little Einstein... We thought maybe this was something Peter needed. A kind of big brother figure to confide in when he doesn't feel like he can come to us." 

Tears were gathering in May's eyes, and Pepper sat closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and speaking softly. "What happened?"

May sniffled. "He touched Peter. In a... He... In a bad way. He... Peter was over at his dorm, both Ben and I had to work later than usual that day, and Skip had offered to keep Peter company for a few hours. Peter had been ecstatic about it and we... we didn't think that..." She had to stop and set down the half full cup of coffee, lest it fell from her trembling hands. Pepper hugged her tightly, looking horrified. Happy looked like he wanted to put his fist through a wall. And Tony... Tony felt sick. 

"He, Skip, he showed Peter some adult magazines, and told him that they should try touching themselves and each other just like the people in the pictures were doing."

Tony felt like he was going to puke. He didn't know whether from rage or shock.

May used both of her hands to hastily scrub the tears from her face. "At first I thought maybe the boys had had a fight, when Peter suddenly didn't want to see Skip anymore. He started to withdraw more and more and Ben and I, we were so worried that Peter was reverting back into his lonely self, that we tried to encourage him to talk things out with Skip, be friends again." The guilt and self-loathing the words carried were easily heard, and Pepper hugged her tighter, stroking her back. After a few seconds, May gave her a small, grateful smile. 

"And then Peter told us. _Thank god he told us_. About that day. What Skip had done to him. Had made him do. We called the police immediately. They arrested Skip, but... Apart from Peter's testimony, they had nothing. It had been a few days since the sexual abuse, there was no physical evidence. We were told by the captain that there was a very real chance that if Skips parents hired a half decent lawyer, the charges could end up being dismissed. The police detective who handled the case, he was a sly, old fox though. He intimidated Skip and goaded him into agreeing to being questioned without a lawyer present. Tricked him into taking a phony polygraph test. Put the fear of god in him, until he confessed. If it hadn't been for that ... I don't want to think about it."

Tony didn't either. Why did stuff like this have to happen to someone like Peter? Wasn't it enough that he had lost his parents? If Tony believed in god, he would rage and scream at the heavens right now, for being such a sick, sadistic fuck to put one of the most pure-hearted people Tony had ever met through so much suffering. 

"The detective, his name was Williams, he had a daughter and grandchildren himself. Said he would rather give up his pension than letting a pedophile back on the streets. He knew we weren't very well off, and gave us the contact information of a non profit organization who dealt specifically with children who had been through sexual abuse. They were based in The Bronx back then, but have since moved to Brooklyn. They are called 'The Hope Foundation'. The people there, they helped Peter so much. He was able to work through the trauma and leave it behind him. We owe these people so much. Me and some of the other nurses at my hospital, as well as some of our doctors, donate a few of our working hours to help out when needed. Last year Peter redesigned their web page. We try to help out with their yearly charity raffle whenever we can."

Pepper and Tony shared a look at that, unbeknownst to May, and nodded at each other. The Hope Foundation was going to receive a big ass donation from Stark Industries the very next day. 

May was slowly regaining her composure. "Please don't say anything to Peter. I meant what I said, he was able to work through what happened to him, to leave Skip behind. It's not some kind of dark, dirty secret that he is ashamed of. He won't mind you knowing, but, it's understandably not a topic he likes talking about."

She was met with solemn nods. Then an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Before anything more could be said, however, the door opened and Helen Cho stepped into the room. Everyone stood at once, and the doctor gave them all a calming smile. 

"Before you all bombard me with questions, Peter is fine. While his ribs have gotten a little more aggravated, nothing is broken. They might take an extra day to recover from the additional strain, though. He doesn't require strict bed rest, but I do want him to take it easy for the next several days."

Tony was fast to agree to that one. "Oh, he will be taking it very easy, I assure you." Kid would be lucky to get out of the tower in time for him to graduate!**

"Good." Then she held up the thin file folder she had carried in her hand. "I'm going to hand over my medical report to the two waiting detectives now. I made sure to compile all the evidence they could possibly need to convict this dirty lowlife."

May stepped towards her and drew the woman into a hug. "Thank you so much Dr. Cho."

While the Korean woman was surprised by the sudden affection, she was in no way affronted by it and returned the hug with one arm. "As I told your lovely nephew earlier this day, call me Helen, please." 

May drew back with a smile. "Thank you, Helen. Can we see Peter?"

"Of course. I gave him something to ward off possible infection from the cigarette burn, though I highly doubt his healing factor wouldn't be able to fight it off on its own. Just a precautionary measure. But it might make him a little drowsy, so I expect him to fall asleep soon."

May thanked the woman once more and then hurried into the examination room. While Happy offered to accompany Dr. Cho to the lobby to meet the detectives, Tony and Pepper hung back. 

"Are you okay, Tony?" She looked worriedly at her fiance, seeing the storm that was brewing, _had been_ brewing for a while now, behind his eyes.

The mechanic took a deep breath. "No." He clenched his hands into fists. "No. Not at all. The thing with _fucking Jeremy_ was bad enough, and now this. _This_." There was no need to ask what 'this' was. It was one thing to know that your enhanced superhero son had almost been physically abused by someone, it was another thing to discover that a pre-spiderbite Peter had been sexually assaulted when he was a defenseless child. Tony was feeling helpless again, and Pepper shared the feeling.   
She closed the little distance that had separated them and wound her arms around his side. 

"What do you want to do?" Because he would do something to avenge their kid. Wasn't that the Avengers motto? 'If we can't save them, we will sure as hell avenge them.'

She waited patiently for him to calm the storm behind his eyes enough to organize his thoughts. "Westcott. Steven 'Skip' Westcott was his name, right? I want to hack into the prison database, make sure that he is where he belongs, and that he will stay there for the foreseeable future. I want our legal team to assist in the prosecution of Jeremy Walters, so that there is no chance that the guy somehow get off with a slap to the wrist. I want to make sure that the Hope Foundation has enough resources and money to continue helping kids in such situations. I want to find other such organizations in the city and donate to those as well. I want for May and Peter to stay in the tower for the next few days. Weeks. Maybe longer. But... I understand if they don't want to move out of their house." He took another deep breath, much calmer now. "But first, I want to go in there and sit with the kid and watch him sleep and make sure he is alright." 

Pepper had never felt more in love with the man than right then. _I'm so proud of you_ , were words that didn't need to be spoken, as they were felt in the kiss the couple shared. "Then let's do it all." Then she took his hand, and together they walked into the med room to join May and Peter. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Peter had imagined all the things he would do when he was finally declared 100% healthy by doc- Helen, his thoughts had mostly been filled with donning his suit and swinging around his city. It had taken nine days, NINE long, tedious, painfully boring days, filled with all the adults around him smothering him with parental love and forcing him to eat and sleep and take his painkillers and eat and sleep some more. And okay, maybe he made that sound much worse than it actually was, (he definitely did not mind all the candy he got to eat), but he had gotten used to a much more active lifestyle and nine days of constant supervision and rest had turned out to be incredibly taxing.

Which is why Peter had been ready to bolt to his room and slip into his Spidey-suit and jump out of the next window right as Helen told him he was good to go. But before he could do that, Tony had seized his arm and instead guided him out of their suite, May and Pepper right behind them, into the elevator, down to the garage and then into one of the billionaire's limousines, that Happy already had running. And now, instead of feeling the exhilaration of free falling from high up and catching himself on a web at just the right moment, soaring back up into the skies at impossible speeds, to experience seconds of absolute weightlessness, before gravity pulled you down again,- he was sitting in the back of a limo, surrounded by all his parental figures and headed to an unknown destination. 

"You aren't gonna Rapunzel me, right?" He shot them a leery look.

Tony, who sat across from him, rolled his eyes. "No, we are not about to take you somewhere far away and lock you up in a big tower. We just took you _out_ of a big tower. If we wanted to 'Rapunzel' you, as you so eloquently put it, I would have just told Friday to not let any wise-ass little Spider-kids step foot out of our floor. Actually, that might not be such a bad idea..." 

"Friday wouldn't do that to me. We are BFF's." He stuck his tongue out at Tony, to which his dad, ever the mature role-model, responded in kind. May and Pepper shared a fond and exasperated look with each other over their boys heads. 

"It's a surprise, Peter." Pepper smiled at him.

The teen remained dubious, though. "Why? It's not my birthday... Wait, it isn't, is it? How long was I actually confined to the tower? Is summer vacation over yet? Did I miss school? MJ will kill me if I missed decathlon practice!" He was already digging in his jeans pocket for his phone, when May gave him a playful shove.

"Would you stop with the dramatics? You were not 'confined' to the tower." She ignored his muttered, _"Fine, imprisoned."_ and went on. "It's still summer vacation, you did not miss school or decathlon practice, and MJ and Ned were over yesterday. I would imagine if MJ was planning to kill you, she would have done it then."

His answer to that, _"She probably wanted to lull me into a false sense of security."_ , was likewise ignored, as Tony took over. "And while we had originally planned this little trip for your birthday, no, you are still a little 16 year old Spiderbaby for another 6 days."

"Not a baby... Wait, where are we going?" Any look out of the tinted car windows to gage their current location was pretty much useless. But right then, before anyone could come up with a way to avoid answering, Happy stopped the car.

"Here we are. Everyone that is not me, get out of the car now."

Tony, Pepper and May just smirked as they all got out of the limousine. It took a few seconds for Peter's eyes to adjust to the brightness outside, but once they did, they widened in complete awe.

"Is this...Are we, ... Can I... ARE WE GONNA GET A DOG?" He wasn't even trying to conceal his excitement at the prospect. The three other people outside, as well as Happy, who remained behind the wheel but had rolled down the window, smiled at the teen.

"Yes Peter." His aunt finally answered him. "It was going to be your birthday present, but" ~~_after everything that had happened_~~ , "we thought it would be nice to do it now."

Tony smirked. "Happy Unbirthday, Underroos."***

If there was such a thing as a world record for the quickest hugs given in short succession in the history of mankind, Peter would have broken it right then. After that he took his aunt by the hand and pulled her behind him into the animal shelter in front of them, shouting over his shoulder to the others to "Hurry up."

Tony turned to Happy. "Sure you don't wanna come in with us?"

To which the burly man quickly shook his head. "Gonna be loud enough during the drive home, I don't need all the yipping and yapping before that as well."

Pepper smiled persuasively at him. "I'm sure the dogs won't be that noisy."

A huff. "Not talking about the dogs. Call me when you are done." And then he reversed out of the parking spot, in search for the closest quiet, little cafe where he could spend the next hour or two relaxing with a nice cup of coffee.

 

-

 

This, Peter was sure, was the hardest decision he would ever have to make in his entire life. He had already petted and played with 22 different dogs (as well as 11 cats, 6 ferrets and 2 cockatoos, but who kept count...), and he was no closer to knowing which one of the dogs he wanted to take home. They were all great and beautiful and great. And did he mention great? It was impossible. May, Pepper and Tony had walked with him from kennel to kennel for his first round, after which the two women had sat down in the small lounge area, while Peter dragged Tony through a second walkthrough, and Tony had joined Pepper and May and one of the shelter managers (who was talking them through some of the paperwork involved with the adopting process), when Peter started his third round. He was currently petting an overeager corgi, when his sensitive hearing picked up on two voices in the adjacent room.

_"...poor thing, he never really stood a chance."_

_"And he just got out of quarantine. He hasn't even been named yet. It's such a shame."_

_"Yeah, but you know how it is with Pit Bulls, Beth. We will be lucky if that one is the only one we will have to euthanize for a while."_

"You are going to kill it?!"

The shocked voice of the teenager startled the two staff members into almost falling over themselves.

"Jesus, kid." The man gasped, grabbing at the wall behind him. "Don't sneak up on someone like that."

"Good lord." The woman, Beth, brought a hand to her chest, taking a calming breath. "Where did you come from?"

Peter wordlessly pointed to the kennel-room (the area where potential owners could see and interact with all animals currently up for adoption), not knowing that his loud exclamation had reached his three parental units as well as the shelter manager, and all were headed for him right now. Tony reached him first.

"Pete? What's going on?" He laid his hands on the boys shoulders, ready to draw him back behind him, should any threat make itself known. But Peter paid it no heed.

"Why would you kill it? What's wrong with the dog?"

Then May, Pepper, and the manager, a middle-aged woman with glasses, joined the group.

"Bethany, Andrew? Is something wrong?"

The man, Andrew, shook his head. "No, no, sorry. Beth and I were talking about the Pit Bull we took in last week. The one that just got out of quarantine. The boy overheard us and..."

Realization dawned in the managers eyes, and she looked sadly at the people around her. Before she could speak, Peter turned to her.

"Why is the dog going to be killed?"

There was really no way to sugarcoat this, and the woman sighed.

"We have no choice. Believe me, if there was any other way-"

But Peter interrupted her. "But why? Is he dangerous? Or sick? They just said he got out of quarantine, so he should be okay, right?"

The wide and earnest eyes of the teenager before her, did not make the words come out any easier. This was perhaps the one thing she truly hated about her job.

"I'm afraid it's not a pleasant story. You see, Pit Bull dogs have a long road to adoption, thwarted by prejudices, laws and bans. And yet, pits are the number one dog being bred in America. Many of those dogs are being bred specifically for dog fighting rings, and then abandoned on the side of a road, if the fights they were forced to participate in, have either left them too injured to take care of by their owners, or if they simply didn't win enough of those fights. From those who survive this long enough to be found by someone and taken to a shelter like ours, most are either too traumatized, or aggressive to adopt out into a normal, loving home. About 75% of municipal shelters euthanize pit bulls immediately upon intake, without them ever having any chance at adoption."  
The brown haired boy before her looked horrified, his parents, or who she thought were his parents, seemed equally upset by the news. It wouldn't get any better with what she had still to add.  
"The Pit Bull my coworkers were discussing, was found tied to a tree close to a highway, and brought to us last week. He had no collar or name to him, and our best estimation places him at about one and a half years old. He had lacerations on his neck, from where he had most likely tried to get out of the rope that kept him tied to the tree, but no other injuries that indicated he had been used in dog fights. We had him treated for the lacerations, which is why he spent the last few days in quarantine. We had hoped that, if we got him healthy fast enough, we may be able to get him into one of the show kennels and find him a new home, before our shelter got too full. But last night we got a call from our sister shelter in Queens. They need to ship five rescue dogs over to us, as they are already overcrowded. We only have enough open space for five new dogs, and between a Pit Bull and any other breed of dog, the Pit Bull is the least likely to be adopted. Even if you adopt a dog right now, we are by law required to take in any animal that is brought to us, and it's really only a matter of days before someone with a Newfoundlander steps through our doors, because they hadn't anticipated that the dog would grow that big, or someone brings us their Golden Retriever because they are going to move in with their new lover, who is allergic to dogs. We don't like making the call to euthanize a dog, or any animal, but it's sadly a call that has to be made."

A heavy silence followed the woman's explanation. Tony squeezed his son's shoulders softly. The business man in him understood what the manager, Mrs. Mills, as she had introduced herself earlier, was saying and he certainly didn't blame her or her coworkers for the decisions that had to be made. It was a sad and cruel fact, but a fact non the less. The father in him, however, also understood that this was a hard truth for Peter to accept. No matter how much bad stuff he had seen and experienced himself, as both Peter Parker and Spiderman, some things just got you out of the blue and bowled you over mercilessly. Which was why he was a little surprised when Peter spoke with firm, unshakable resolve.

"Can I see the dog?"

  


They were taken into one of the backrooms (the one used for animals that had undergone medical procedures, and couldn't yet rejoin the other hopefuls in the show kennels). If not for the call from their sister shelter, Mrs. Mills had explained to them on the way, the Pit Bull would have gotten one of the free kennels the very next day.

Peter heard the quiet whimpering sound before the door even opened, and upon entering the room was greeted to the sight of the unnamed dog cowering on a blanket in the far corner of the room. There were still bandages around the Pit Bulls throat, though Mrs Mills assured them the wounds were in their last stages of healing, and the bandages merely a precaution, so that the dog wouldn't scratch the skin open with his feet. The dog had curled more into himself when the group entered the room, but Peter could still make out the beautiful gray and brown patches coloring his fur, as well as the white tips on his paws.

"Unfortunately the little guy has been rather shy and frightened so far. It's no surprise, considering the circumstances that let to him being here, but it's not exactly ideal behavior for a dog hoping to find a forever home. People willing to adopt generally choose more energetic and openly affectionate dogs."

When Peter approached, another whimper came from the cowering dog, and the teen felt his heart go out to the poor creature. He sat down on the ground, still a few feet away, hoping that a more even level would calm the dog down some. "Hey there, boy. Don't be scared, okay?" He kept his voice low, and slowly scooched over a little. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Behind him, the adults kept talking.

"Why do you think he was abandoned, if you are sure he wasn't used for dog fighting?" Pepper asked the woman.

"I can't say for sure, there are many reasons people give up their pets. From not finding a pet friendly hotel for their vacation, to simply not wanting to shoulder the responsibility of caring for another living being anymore. I just wish that they would have enough decency to actually bring the poor things to shelters like ours, instead of just leaving them somewhere on the road." There was clear frustration and disgust in her voice. "With Pit Bulls like him, there is always a chance that he was supposed to be used for fighting, but turned out to be too docile to train. Pit Bulls are actually not an aggressive breed by nature. It's their biology, the strength in their jaws and legs that make them such sought after candidates for dog fight rings. But they have to undergo very cruel training for such brutality. Really, freaking Poodles can actually be more vicious than Pit Bulls."

Peter had kept up a soft monologue while he slowly edged his way closer to the dog. The Pit Bull was looking at him warily, still pressing itself slightly into the corner, but he wasn't whimpering anymore. His tail was also wagging slowly, like he couldn't decide if he was excited, or scared. "What a pretty boy you are. Look at you, such a gorgeous dog." He was now close enough to touch, but stayed sitting down right where he was in front of the dog.

"You said he was about one and a half years old?" He heard his aunt ask the shelter manager.

"It's our best estimation. Pit bulls can take up to two years to grow into full-size dogs, and this one is still a little on the small side. When they reach full size, females are generally between 30 and 50 pounds and 17 to 20 inches in height, whereas males are 35 to 60 pounds and approximately 18 to 21 inches tall. They have a general life span of 8 to 15 years. Many types of dogs actually live way over 10 years, which is another fact that many people don't consider when they get one as a pet. A dog isn't a short time responsibility, but will be a part of someones life for many years. They require space, exercise, food, the occasional trip to the vet and love. I have seen so many people come in here, saying they just didn't have the energy to care for their dogs anymore."

Peter's non-threatening behavior and the calming, soft voice he kept talking in, had made the dog give in to its curiosity, and he was slowly inching his way towards the sitting teen, sniffing carefully at the outstretched hand. "That's a good boy. So smart. It's alright. It's alright."

"Anything else you can tell us about the dog?" Tony asked, but the woman shook her head regrettably.

"Sadly nothing. Since he wasn't brought in by his owner who could have given us more information about him, and has spent almost all of his time in here, we weren't able to observe his behavior with either other animals, or around humans - apart from ourselves. He has mostly been sitting close to the corner, skittering away when anyone came too close. As I said before, it's not ideal for..." Her voice tapered off as she looked to where the young Pit Bull had previously been cowering in the corner, to see the dog happily wriggling in the brunette teenagers lap, excitedly licking at the boys face and yipping. Peter was smiling from ear to ear, gracefully accepting the doggy kisses, his arms around the wiggling ball of dog in his lap, petting and scratching his belly.

"Who's a good boy? _You_ are. Yes, you are. You wanna come home with me?"

Mrs Mills was speechless, while the other three adults around her were watching the scene fondly, and Tony had already gotten out his checkbook.

"So, I guess we will be taking this one. How much was your adoption fee again?"

  


They were given a few supplies and brochures for first time dog owners, as well as the official documents of ownership. ("Mr Stark? I believe you might have accidentally wrote out too many zeros on this check." "Really? Let's see... Nope, looks about right. Maybe you can expand a little, make a bit more space for all the critters.")

Happy arrived back with the limousine and soon everyone had piled back into the backseat. While the dog was timid and a little nervous in his new surroundings, Peter's continued petting and coaxing calmed him down enough to lay his head into the teenagers lap and lay down on the seat. His aunt smiled next to Peter.

"Do you know what you want to call him yet?"

Peter didn't have to think long about it, and softly stroked over his new friends ears as he answered.

"Hope. I think I want to name him Hope."

Across from him, Tony smiled. "That's a good name, kid."

  


The End

* * *

* * *

  


That's it for now, folks. I might make a little kind of Omake for this, wherein Peter talks (read:harasses) every other hero he is acquainted with into adopting a shelter animal, or something like this, but the story is officially done. Should anyone reading this want to write a follow up on Peter and his dog Hope, or other Avengers/Vigilantes interacting with the shelter animals, please feel free to do so. 3

I want to thank everyone who took the time to read, review, leave kudos or bookmarked this story. It meant a lot to me that so many people liked this. I hope this last chapter was to all of your liking as well.

Again, thank you very much.

Also, I put a link in the notes at the end of this, to the website from which I got most of the info on Pit Bulls in dog shelters. Check it out if you want and have the time to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * That's when Peter is on the phone with Detective Rosa Sanchez at the end of chapter 2.  
> ** I realized that I have no idea about the american educational system and students ages when graduating and so on. At this point, Peter is only weeks away from his 17th birthday, which I believe is an age at which he should have already graduated from highschool? - I really don't know and I'm too lazy to google it. So let's just pretend that since he is going to that fancy pants stem school, students there have like one or two extra years and are expected to graduate around the age of 18, - and then go off to college if they want to.  
> *** Yes, that is an Alice in Wonderland reference. 
> 
> One of the reasons this chapter took so long was because I did some actual research on Pitbulls in shelters and euthanisation rates (and cried for like half an hour). This is the site I took most of my info from: http://saveabullmn.org/pit-bulls-and-euthanasia-rates/  
> Take a look at it when you can.


End file.
